


Heir and Pride

by harrypanther



Category: How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Bullying, F/M, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Injury Recovery, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-20
Updated: 2016-12-30
Packaged: 2018-07-16 02:17:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 49
Words: 166,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7248151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harrypanther/pseuds/harrypanther
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a disastrous raid, Hiccup has been replaced as Heir to Berk and almost disowned by his father. Bullied, ostracised and alone, can he find a way to repair the damage and make his father proud of him? And will his father see what Hiccup truly is or what he wants him to be? Set during and after the first movie.</p><p>Disclaimer: How to Train Your Dragon remains owned by Cressida Cowell and Dreamworks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

 

**One.**

"Please, Snotlout-stop! You're hurting me!"

The larger boy pressed harder down on his smaller cousin, increasing the pressure cruelly and almost tearing the boy's shoulder from its joint. Writhing beneath him, the younger boy gave another incoherent gasp of pain, his ashen face beaded with sweat with only his little smattering of freckles and his glorious green eyes for colour. His untidy dark auburn mop was grubby with dirt from the rest of the battle. He gasped plaintively and his arm was pulled even harder.

"It's meant to, Useless!" the larger boy grunted, finally releasing him. He slumped onto his face and he lay for a long moment, gingerly moving his arm. Slowly, he pressed up onto his hands and knees-and then a fist smacked straight down onto his check and he was slammed unceremoniously into the dirt. Kicks pounded into his side and guts and he curled up, giving a pained moan. Finally, Snotout stood up, sneering down onto the smaller boy curled sobbing at his feet. "Now get out of my sight!"

"S-sorry…" Hiccup whimpered, tears streaking his battered face. His right arm felt bad, the shoulder horribly painful. He was sure he had felt something tear as the other boy had dragged on it. His body was hurting and he knew that the other teens had watched the beating silently, no one standing forward to help him.

Hiccup was small, scrawny, clumsy and universally despised. He was the worst Viking, unable to fight and apparently unable to follow orders. Every time he tried to help, he brought disaster to Berk. But he was the son of the Chief Stoick the Vast, his only son-and he was an embarrassment to the Tribe. Snotlout, his larger, brawnier cousin had replaced him as heir for the good of the Hooligan Tribe and Hiccup, set aside and supplanted, was now the constant target for abuse and beatings. He just lay on the cold ground, his head spinning and body hurting and just sobbed his heart out. it wasn't fair: he couldn't have tried more.

Finally, he lifted his head. The other teens had long gone, the fun finished for the moment. Painfully, he levered his body up and scrambled to his feet. It was just another day in his perfect life: his father ignoring him as usual, the daily beating and now he was late for work. He rubbed his painful shoulder and slowly began to drag himself down the hill to the forge.

He painfully slank into the back of the forge, grasping his leather apron and shrugging it on. He winced as he moved his right shoulder: this was going to be a nuisance at work. He looked up-and met the scowl of his boss, Gobber the Belch. The big blacksmith frowned, his eyes inspecting the scrawny and battered shape.

"Nice of you to turn up!" he said sarcastically. Hiccup just slumped miserably.

"Sorry," he mumbled. Somehow, he had got into the habit of apologising on principle. No matter what happened, he would end up being in the wrong so he might as well save time.

"Laddie, you've got work to do," the blacksmith said gruffly, taking in the grimy and battered shape. Gobber had been his boss since he was apprenticed at eight and though he trusted the blacksmith implicitly, he just didn't feel there was anything Gobber could do to help him. The blacksmith handed over an axe. "This was brought in for sharpening. Can you manage that without any catastrophes?" Hiccup nodded and held the axe, glancing at it and then freezing. He knew this weapon: it was Astrid's axe.

Astrid Hofferson. The most beautiful girl in Berk, with sun bright hair that flopped over one eye and braided fiercely. Her eyes were a clear sea blue and her face was perfection. She was totally the most beautiful girl on the island. If not the archipelago, his mind amended softly. Astrid had been his friend when they were small-before everything changed. She was now the most promising shield maiden in the history of Berk. And she had stood by, her arms crossed, as Snotlout had pounded him into the dirt this morning. He shivered.

He turned the axe over in his hands. This was a very familiar weapon-because Hiccup had made it. When Astrid was ten, she had wanted an axe, but her family had been too poor to afford the fine metals needed for such a weapon. But Hiccup, who had been listening to the awkward conversation between Gobber and Astrid's father, had set to work, using all the scrap iron he could scrounge and beg in return for his work to craft her a magnificent axe. It was the most perfect piece of work he had ever done and he had shyly handed it over to Mr Hofferson with the explanation why he had made it. Astrid had been his friend and though she was growing more distant as his capacity for screwing up became more pronounced, he already loved her. The axe was a gift for his friend-though she never acknowledged him or ever thanked him. He had felt a small inner warmth every time he saw her use the axe and he felt the same warmth as he turned it over in his hands.

"Sure," he said thoughtfully and gently pressed the blade to the grindstone. He knew Astrid went to the forest to train and he guessed that she had killed a lot of trees to get the blade this blunt. But he would have to be careful: if anything happened to the blade, he would be dead. Literally. Gobber peered at him.

"Laddie, are ye sure ye want to do that?" he asked and Hiccup looked up.

"What?" he asked softly.

"I mean, that is Astrid's axe and if anything happens..."

"You'll be looking for a new apprentice," Hiccup finished dryly. "I'm okay."

"You're holding your right arm funny," Gobber noted. Hiccup sighed.

"Being beaten up by Snotlout will do that for you," he shot back sarcastically. Then he paused. "Gobber, why does no one step in and stop it?" His bright green eyes were dark with hurt. The blacksmith looked at his apprentice and sighed.

"If your father raised his voice, they would leave you alone," he said. "But he believes that a Viking must stand up for himself and deal with his own problems." Hiccup stared at him incredulously. He swallowed and turned away, his shoulders hunched.

"Of course," he said sarcastically. "Couldn't possibly actually protect your own son!"

"He gave up so much protecting you that you owe him everything!" Gobber snapped. Stoick was his best friend. Hiccup winced and nodded.

"I'm sorry," he murmured. And then he groaned. In his distraction, he had notched the axe blade. He stared at it in utter dismay. "I really am useless," he whispered. "And Astrid is going to kill me!"

Then he paused. He knew that he had recently made a new axe for Haaken and Gobber was waiting for final specifications for the haft. He sneaked into the back and found the axe-head. He brought it through and measured it against Astrid's. The match was almost perfect but the head was lighter because Hiccup had improved his metalwork techniques in the last five years. He took the axe through and urgently began to work on it, shaping the blade and sharpening it exactly to Astrid's specifications. Finally, he swapped the axe handle over.

"Yer customer is here," Gobber announced and Hiccup looked up, guiltily. Then he gave the blade a fast polish and timidly handed it over. Astrid narrowed her eyes and turned the axe over in her hands.

"Hi-hi, Astrid," he stammered and she frowned as she stared into the pale face still darkening with bruises from his beating. She never used his moniker Hiccup the Useless or simply Useless because Snotlout had come up with the cruel name and because, despite his many deficiencies, it was very obvious Hiccup wasn't useless. Clumsy, uncoordinated, too small and pathologically incapable of following the simplest orders but not useless. She knew he probably was actually a pretty good smith.

"This feels lighter," she said coldly. Hiccup actually flinched as if expecting a blow.

"Y-yes, I-I rebalanced it..." he said, cringing inwardly. Gods damn it, Hiccup! Can't you even manage the simplest sentence without stammering like the village idiot? he thought savagely at himself. She swung it thoughtfully and then nodded.

"Thanks," she said brusquely. His eyes widened and a slight smile lifted his lips.

"You-you're welcome..." he replied hopefully but she had already turned and was marching away. He sagged. Then Gobber frowned.

"Rebalanced?" he said suspiciously. "Okay-what's going on, laddie?" Hiccup gave a wild grin for a few seconds.

"N-nothing! Why-why would anything b-be going on?" he stammered rapidly. Gobber folded his arms. Hiccup gave another yip and then sighed. He reached back and showed the ruined axe head, hanging his head in shame. Gobber shook his head.

"I told ye to be careful!" he scolded the boy. Hiccup inspected the floor furiously.

"I know," he admitted, "and I'll make it up, Gobber. I promise! I know I can recondition this axe head and make it as good as..."

"No, ye'll make if from new!" the blacksmith growled at him. Hiccup sighed and turned to the forge.

"Yes, Gobber. Sorry." His voice had dropped to a small whisper. It was going to be a long day and a late night. This day was just getting better and better!

oOo

It was long after dark when the boy dragged his aching body back up the hill to his home. He was cold, aching and hungry: he hadn't dared go to the Hall for food because he really didn't want to risk running into Snotlout or the other teens. He quietly opened the door to the Chief's house and entered reluctantly.

His father was already seated in the huge chair by the fire, his eyes focussed on the flames, ignoring the skinny boy walking quietly towards the store.

"Hey, Dad," he said softly, searching and finding some dry bread and a hunk of dried fish. Wearily, he sat by the fire and chewed uninterestedly. His father ignored him. "How was your day?" he persisted. Stoick gave a growl and his left fist clenched.

"I have spent all the day solving the problems of the villagers, organising defences against the next raid and training my heir," he snarled. Hiccup finished his bread. Snotlout had an ego the size of Berk but the intelligence of a yak.

"How-how's that going for you?" he asked tonelessly. It was a subject Hiccup still felt keenly: some of his best interactions with his Dad had been while Stoick had been trying to teach him Chiefing. Stoick turned on his son with a snarl in his face.

"That's none of your business, is it, boy?" he shouted. Hiccup flinched.

"I-I was only try-trying to m-m..." he tried to explain but the Chief fixed him with his enraged glare.

"And do you recall why this is not your business?" he roared. The boy shrank, his eyes shining with misery.

"Y-yes..." he murmured.

"Yes. Because you are utterly incapable of obeying orders, boy! You are weak and the most disappointing son a father could have. You cause chaos and destruction wherever you go. You deliberately defied me and tried another of your gods damned contraptions which almost destroyed half the village! And last time, because you can never follow orders, you caused...this." He rose on his wavering legs, his right arm hanging limp by his side. Hiccup's eyes widened and he cowered back.

"I-I-I-I'm s-so s-sorry, D-dad..." he stammered, his eyes shimmering with tears. "I-I..."

"You caused this!" Stoick repeated. "You deserve the scorn and dishonour of the village. I have already had to replace you as my heir. The village is tired of your antics, boy. Any more and I can't answer for what they'll do!"

"D-Dad, I-I only t-try b-because I-I w-want t-to b-be one of y-you..." Hiccup whispered.

"You are the worst Viking in the history of Berk!" Stoick bellowed. "I could not be more ashamed! Now get out of my sight!"

Hiccup could barely breathe for the lump in his throat but he scrambled to his feet and raced up the steep stairs to his loft. He was desperate to get away before he started sobbing and embarrassed his father further. Stoick sat heavily in his chair but he could still hear the soft sobs as his son reached his bedroom. The boy buried his head in his pillow and tried to muffle his grief but he had never before been torn apart by his father so brutally. He loved his father-he really did-but he knew his father no longer loved him. And worse, his look had contained contempt verging on hatred.

"I just want to make you proud," he whispered.


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Advisory: Physical abuse of a minor.

**Two.**

Hiccup was woken by the familiar noises of screams, explosions and the roars of dragons. He scrambled up and dragged his boots and fur vest on, then raced down the stairs. His father had gone to lead the defences while Hiccup also had a job to do. He snatched the door open-to see a large Monstrous Nightmare launch a huge ball of flame at the door. He slammed it shut just in time but he felt the impact and shivered. Then he dashed out, snatching up the buckets and tossing the cold water on the flames. His father insisted on rudimentary fire precautions for all homes and Hiccup always obeyed his orders and had the buckets full each evening. Sure the house was safe, he scooted down the hill.

He was met by the usual scenes of chaos: Vikings fighting dragons, dragons raiding stores, houses being burnt. He ducked under two fighters and sprinted down between the houses. And the villagers were as pleased as usual to see him.

"What are you doing out here?"

"Get back inside!"

He ducked and ran harder. It was dangerous to be out but part of his job at the forge was to help Gobber in the shop during raids. His father was always out leading the defence if the village and Hiccup had always wanted to do his part. He rounded a corner and narrowly missed a huge stream of fire. He started and a strong hand wrenched him up by the collar. He winced as Stoick looked around angrily.

"What are you...? What is he doing outside?" he growled, glancing around. No one answered but the Chief didn't expect an answer. He released the boy. "Get inside!" he snarled at his son and Hiccup ran on as he heard his father get a report from Sven on the attack. Hiccup dodged by the fire beacons as they were raised into the dragon-infested Sky and dashed into the open door of the forge. Gobber looked up from a twisted sword, which he was pounding with his hammer prosthetic hand.

"Nice of you to show up," the blacksmith said sarcastically. "I thought you'd been carried away!" Hiccup shucked off his vest and dragged on his leather apron then have a smile. After a day when no one seemed to want him at all, it was a relief to be with Gobber, who seemed to have forgotten his earlier anger at the boy.

"Who, me? Nah-they couldn't handle all...this..." he replied and demonstrated his scrawny and totally unimpressive physique. Gobber glanced up as the boy struggled to manhandle a war-hammer into the rack.

"Well, they need toothpicks, don't they?" he shot back and the boy smiled. Runt, toothpick and fishbone were the most common insults thrown at him and while Hiccup knew he was small for his fourteen years and scrawny, the constant repetition still hurt. Though not as much as being called Useless...

"Always happy to help," he muttered and had to put his entire body weight into pumping the bellows and getting the fire hotter. He threw the hatch open and a dozen Vikings immediately thrust their weapons in for attention. With a sigh, he gathered them in his arms and began sorting them. Gobber stared at the boy: he could tell when Hiccup was unhappy and the boy was really troubled.

The blacksmith was Stoick's best friend and had helped the Chief raise his son after the boy's mother had been taken as a baby. He knew Hiccup and recognised the boy was different to the average Viking and trying to make the boy into a perfect Viking son was never going to work. Gobber knew that his friend was so focussed on making his boy a proper Viking that he forgot the boy had any feelings. A diet of criticism, shouting and humiliation certainly hadn't turned Hiccup into Snotlout-thank the gods-and it was unlikely to suddenly take effect. Gobber made a mental note to have another word with his angry and embittered friend about his son.

Hiccup was leaning out the hatch, staring. Gobber peered over his shoulder and saw the fire crew-the other teens-at work. He knew that Hiccup was needed in the forge but he could understand the boy's heartfelt desire to join them. He had very little positive interaction with his peers and had begged to join them in the fire crew but the entire village council had vetoed the suggestion, already envisaging the utter destruction of the village.

The boy was staring with a slightly goofy expression, his gaze locked on the lithe shape of Astrid and Gobber smiled. He knew the lad had a massive crush on her-his inability to string a coherent sentence together in her presence was a giveaway-but she was as dismissive of him as the rest. With a regretful sigh, he hauled the boy away from the window.

"Get back inside!" he snapped. Hiccup looked up plaintively, his big green eyes pleading.

"Oh please, let me out!" he begged. "I need to make my mark!"

"You've made plenty of marks...all in the wrong places!" Gobber pointed out, jabbing him in the chest with his prosthetic hand-now a pair of tongs. Hiccup wasn't giving up.

"I just need to get out...and slay a dragon. My life will get infinitely better," he added and the plea was much clearer. It couldn't get much worse. "I may even get a date," he murmured gently. Gobber glared at him. He was exasperated. No one would want Hiccup!

"How? You can't lift an axe. You can't swing a sword. You can't even use these..." Gobber lifted a heavy set of stone bolas which a villager grabbed and used to bring down a Gronckle. Hiccup backed away, gesturing to a device he had been working on in the back room.

"No-but this will throw them for me!" he said quickly, his eyes serious. The boy couldn't help inventing machines to fight dragons. He patted the cover and the thing instantly launched a bola and flattened a Viking queuing at the hatch. Hiccup winced and mentally noted that he would have to go and apologise to Bjorn later.

"You see?" Gobber snapped.

"Minor calibration issues," Hiccup offered quickly but Gobber advanced on him and he backed away. Gobber was one of the few people he didn't fear would hit him but Gobber was huge, intimidating and probably crazy and he could still devise some annoying punishments that would wipe out what little spare time Hiccup had for his inventing. The blacksmith scanned the skinny shape in front of him.

"If you ever want to get out there, you need to stop all of ...this..." He indicated brusquely. Hiccup frowned.

"You just gestured to all of me," he complained, his tone slightly hurt. Gobber nodded.

"That's right-stop being all of you!" he encouraged the boy. Hiccup stiffened.

"Ohhh-you, sir, are playing a dangerous game-keeping this much raw Viking-ness contained..." he replied spiritedly. "There will be CONSEQUENCES!" Gobber looked unimpressed, though he was glad the boy was still willing to stand up for himself.

"I'll take my chances," he said swiftly and spun as they heard and explosion. Since the disastrous raid where Stoick had been severely injured, his brother Spitelout-Snotlout's father-had been Stoick's physical avatar. Stoick had offered to stand down as Chief but the village to a Viking had demanded he stay on. Though physical prowess was important, they recognised his skills in leadership, his wisdom and justice and his diplomacy. Spitelout was almost as strong as Stoick but vacuous verging on stupid, a man whose only plan was to hit something and then, if that didn't work, to hit it harder. So Stoick sent Spitelout to lead the fighting in the lower defences while he directed the overall defence, often from the plaza but usually from the Great Hall.

"Is that...?" Hiccup asked, peering around the blacksmith. The whine sounded through the air and a catapult exploded in a welter of purple fire.

"NIGHT FURY!" Hiccup leaned further forward as the shout echoed round the besieged village.

"The dragon that no one has seen. This thing never steals food and never misses. No one has ever brought down a Night Fury. That's why I'm gonna be the first," he murmured. He had noted the sleek black shape always zoomed through the explosion as it veered away and he had memorised the sleek shape, with wide bat-like wings. Another explosion sounded and another catapult went down. Gobber made his decision.

"They need me out there!" he announced, switching his prosthetic for an axe. He fixed Hiccup in a stern blue glare. "Stay. Here. Now." Hiccup stared back as Gibber hobbled outside on his leg leg and threw himself into the fray with a roar. But the boy's gaze swung back to his machine. Another explosion made up his mind and he threw his leather apron off. Maybe he could make his father proud at last.

He closed his ears to the cries of the villagers ordering him to get back inside and pushed the Mangler-as he had dubbed his bola-launcher-into position on an outcrop in the upper village. Then he snapped it open and narrowed his eyes, focussing on the remaining catapult in the lower defences. He could hear the Night Fury coming round for another pass and lined up the weapon.

"Give me something to shoot at," he murmured. Not that he expected the gods to help: why would they want to involve themselves in the shipwreck that was his life? But the catapult exploded and he fired at the black shape that zoomed through the explosion. The recoil tossed him onto his back but he scrambled up to see if he hit anything. And then he heard it: a shriek of pain and saw something silhouetted against the stars, arching down the impact into Raven Point forest.

He leapt in the air. "Oh, I hit it! I hit it! Did anyone see that?" he shouted and spun-to spy the menacing head of a Monstrous Nightmare rounding a house. He backed away. "Except you," he sighed and ran for his life.

Stoick was shouting orders to the Vikings who had trapped a trio of Nadders that had been after the sheep. He bore the species special animosity, since it was another trio of Nadders-or maybe it was the same trio?-that had almost killed him as he rescued his disobedient boy. Mentally, he had stopped calling Hiccup his son after that day. He roared another order and then he heard it-the desperate scream that had him coiled in a mixture of worry and fury. The boy was out AGAIN! He scanned the skyline and saw the skinny shape racing down, pursued by a Monstrous Nightmare!

Hiccup scrambled and almost fell, narrowly missing being incinerated. He knew he needed to get the village, to the fighters and wondered what his dad would say. He guessed his father would be absolutely mad. The Nightmare missed him again and he dashed behind one of the huge posts suspending the fire beacons. He was so skinny that his slight frame could completely hide behind the tree trunk post. And then he flinched as the dragon poured all its flame at him. He could feel the heat as it rushed by but the post held-just-though it was groaning and creaking ominously. His breaths scorching his throat and heart galloping with fear, he glanced to his right...as the dragon snaked its long neck round to his left. The jaws opened to end the boy...

...and the Stoick's hammer crashed into the muzzle and knocked the beast back half a dozen yards. Limping, the Chief lurched at it, his hammer raised. The dragon narrowed its eyes and then spat it a gout of flame at the man. But all it managed was small burp: it was empty. Stoick gave a nasty smile.

"You're all out!" he shouted and slammed the dragon with his hammer again. The dragon backed away. They all knew of the flame-haired warrior, his ferocious fists and his implacable will. The dragons believed he had been killed but he was alive and the Nightmare didn't fancy its chances: it backed away and flew off at speed. Stoick gave a grim grin: it was his first action since the attack and it had invigorated him, reminding him just of how much he enjoyed killing dragons.

Then a sickening crack sounded behind him as the tortured post of the beacon finally gave way, dumping the enormous fire basket in the ground. The Chief watched as the basket rolled down the hill, crushing houses, setting more fires and freeing the Nadders, which immediately made off with the sheep. In fact, all the dragons were leaving, laden with loot. So he concentrated on the skinny shape, wincing and flinching at every crunch and crack as the fire basket continued its destruction of the lower village. Hiccup looked up, his shoulders tense: he knew he was in desperate trouble.

"Sorry...Dad," he said. Stoick scowled at him as the villagers silently glared at the boy. Hiccup stared at the ground meekly for a minute but knew he had to explain. "Okay-but I hit a Night Fury!" he added

There were mutters of disbelief and annoyance that Useless had not only destroyed half the village and let the dragons get away with half the food but that he was lying in a ridiculous attempt to excuse his irresponsible actions. Stoick grabbed him by the arm and hauled him bodily up towards the plaza. His rage seemed to improve his usually uneven gait.

"It's not like the last time!" Hiccup protested quickly. "I really actually hit it this time! You guys were busy and I had a really clear shot. It came down over Raven Point and if we get a search party..."

"ENOUGH!" Stoick roared, lurching to a halt. The boy flinched and stared up at the Chief. His father was mad beyond anything he had seen and he felt his pulse fluttering in his chest. Memories of Stoick's cruel verbal dismantling of his son raced through his memory. "Enough!" the Chief repeated. Hiccup squared his shoulders, preparing himself for another dressing down. "Every time you come outside, you cause disaster!" Hiccup swallowed anxiously. "Can't you see that? Winter is coming and I have whole village to feed!"

Hiccup glanced round at the assembled villagers. Not one of them looked starving: all of them would make three of him. "Between you and me, the village could do with a little less feeding, don't you think?" he said in a low voice. Stoick's scowl deepened and he knew his feeble quip had been ill-judged.

"Go back to the house and STAY THERE!" he snapped. He turned to Gobber. "See that he gets and stays there!" The blacksmith came up behind the boy, cuffed him on the back of the head and pushed him up the hill. The villagers were still muttering and the Chief could sense an ugly mood. Spitelout marched up to him.

"Is that it?" he asked, his voice angry. He had been very vocal over the last few months-both in private and in council-about punishing Hiccup. His demands had been more determined since the boy had ceased being Stoick's heir and the Chief knew his brother had a point. To all intents and purposes now, Hiccup was expendable. and though Stoick was angry and disappointed by the boy, he didn't want him dead. He just wanted him...better.

"I know your view," he said heavily. Stoick had never beaten his son and hardly ever struck the boy but Spitelout was free with his hands and his belt. His son had been beaten whenever he failed to live up to Spitelout's high expectations and the man pointed to his son as proof positive that his regime worked. Stoick knew that no amount of beating would turn his scrawny fishbone son into a paragon of Viking virtue. But it may curb his disobedience. He waved his hand. "So be it!" Spitelout gave again smile and stomped off up the hill after the boy and Gobber.

Hiccup was almost home, still protesting to an unsympathetic Gobber. He had already run the gauntlet of sneers and taunts from the other teens and he had felt himself cringe. He knew that Snotlout would be after him later and he resolved to get away from the village for a while. Maybe he could combine it with a search of Raven Point. He knew he had taken down the Night Fury but he needed proof to finally win his father's approval.

"I really did hit it!" he protested.

"Yeah, yeah!" Gobber said, not really listening.

"He never listens!" Hiccup continued heavily. It never seemed fair.

"Runs in the family," Gobber commented.

"And when he does, it's with this disappointed expression, like someone skimped the meat in his sandwich," Hiccup said and paused by his home. He adopted a heroic pose, at total odds with his unheroic physique. His accent was a really good approximation of his father's growl. "Barmaid-you've brought the wrong offspring! I ordered an extra-large boy with beefy arms, extra guts and glory on the side. This here- this is a talking fishbone!"

"You're thinking about this all wrong," Gobber told him tactlessly. "It's not what's on the outside, it's what's on the inside he can't stand!" Hiccup felt that like the harshest blow, confirmation-if any were needed-that his father didn't love him. He sagged.

"Thank you for summing that up," he managed sarcastically, swallowing the lump in his throat. His eyes were feeling suspiciously as if he was in the verge of tears. Gobber caught his tone and tried to be kind.

"Just stop being something you're not!" he said kindly. Hiccup sighed.

"I just wanna be one of your guys," he said softly, turning to his house. Gobber peered over his shoulder.

"Yer uncle wants to speak with you as well, Hiccup," he warned. "Try to keep your mouth under control. Spitelout doesn't have my sense of humour. And try to obey your father once in a while. It would make all our lives so much easier!" And he turned away as the boy dragged himself into the house. He feared his uncle because Spitelout had made no secret of his disdain and scorn for the skinny offspring of their Chief. Hiccup realised who had lobbied to take his birthright-not that he especially wanted to be Chief, but the status had protected him for years from the worst excesses of the bullies. Not any more.

He poked the dying fire and automatically gathered more kindling and logs, feeding the embers and nodding as a golden flame appeared in response to his efforts. His father needed a warm house in view of his injuries and Hiccup determinedly claimed every last stick they were owed to ensure the fire was fed. The abuse and taunts he fielded for his efforts were par for the course but it was for his Dad and he would endure anything for him.

The door slammed open and Spitelout stomped in. Hiccup spun to face him and saw the man's cold blue eyes lit with triumph. Instinctively, he backed away as his uncle pulled the door to. "Your father sent me," he said grimly and Hiccup backed up further. "You have caused too much destruction to escape without penalty." Hiccup's eyes widened and he watched as the man as he stalked to the woodpile and felt round the back, then grasped a long switch, thick as a finger and supple. The boy gaped: he had never known that was there, or he would have burned it for fuel. "Your father got this months ago," Spitelout continued conversationally, bending the rod and smiling. "He was considering this even before your rank disobedience almost cost him his life. Maybe if he had thrashed you before, he would still be whole."

Hiccup stared at him, his numb brain struggling to process the words. His father had actually been planning to beat him? He had decided that hurting him would suddenly make him a proper Viking? And he and Spitelout blamed him for everything that had happened? Sure, that wasn't much of a stretch since Hiccup was usually blamed for everything but that they were planning to... He ran for the door but Spitelout was quicker and grabbed his arm painfully, his thick fingers digging deep into Hiccup's flesh in a ferocious, bruising grip. The boy was dragged back and slammed against the table and Spitelout eagerly hauled the boy's tunic up over his head. His grip switched to snare both of Hiccup's bony wrists and hold his arms straight above his head, using them to bend him helpless over the table. Finally, the man dragged his leggings down to his knees.

"P-please...Uncle...don't..." Hiccup whispered. Spitelout stared at the skinny shape, the white skin unblemished save for an occasional freckle. Hiccup was breathing fast in fear and actually trembling.

"You pathetic coward!" Spitelout sneered. "You should be ashamed! Take your punishment like a Viking!" Hiccup gave a muffled sob.

"My-my father wouldn't..." he whimpered.

The first blow fell with a crack and a shocked scream from the boy as it cut across his shoulders. He struggled wildly but he was helpless. Spitelout hit lower the second time and lower again the third. Trapped by his tunic, held helpless and unable to see what was going on, Hiccup could only bite his lip and try not to scream as his uncle expertly continued the beating.

Stoick made his slow way back up to the Great Hall when he heard the first scream. He paused. He had become programmed to listen for that sound, to respond and protect the boy. He had promised his wife he would always protect Hiccup. But he knew he had done this, turning his son to the mercies of his brother who had been itching to thrash the boy for years. And he knew, beyond all doubt, that Spitelout would not exercise the restraint he used on his own son. Then he shook his head. Maybe this would finally teach the boy a lesson in obedience.

Further down the slope, Snotlout was failing to hide his grin at the screams echoing down the village. The villagers who heard were nodding gravely in approval at the punishment and the heir felt a warm surge of satisfaction at the sounds of his predecessor suffering. Hiccup should have been thrashed years ago and Snotlout was already planning how he could exploit the boy's wounds for his beating tomorrow. He knew how hard his Dad could beat a son and it sounded like Hiccup was getting the full treatment. In fact...in fact, Snotlout couldn't recall ever having a beating this bad.

He looked up and saw the twins at his side. Tuffnut frowned. "Is that...Useless?" Snotlout nodded with a nasty grin.

"Yeah, my Dad's giving him a real thrashing. If he can walk away from this one, I'll be mildly surprised," he added. The twins gave approving whoops.

"Like to see that!" Ruffnut leered.

"I'm sure we can help him..." Tuffnut added. Astrid scowled, wincing as the screams continued, though definitely more desperate now.

"You should be ashamed," she announced. "That boy is bullied by all of you, he clearly isn't loved-or even liked-by his own father and he is despised by the village. Whatever he's suffering, it's more than he deserves." And she stalked away to go training in the forest. At least there, she could try to forget the desperate, pitiful cries. Fishlegs gave an embarrassed look and headed back to his home. Snotlout stared back up the hill.

"Just wait until I get my hands on you, Useless!" he promised.

Spitelout gave another savage blow and then stopped. His arm was aching, he was covered with sweat and he was panting as if he had fought an entire raid. He gave one last swat across the boy's backside then unclasped his hand to let the boy slide to the floor. He had lost count but he guessed it was about six dozen stripes-double the most he had ever given his son. Hiccup was covered in scarlet welts, from his shoulders, all down his back, across his buttocks and his upper legs. Many were bleeding and the boy gave a faint moan, struggling to wrestle his tunic down and stare blearily up at his Uncle. His entire body was shivering with pain and his eyes were wet, his cheeks streaked with tears. His green eyes were terrified.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry..." he muttered in a hoarse voice.

"Stop sobbing! A Viking doesn't cry like a baby! Try to take your punishments like a man!" Spitelout snarled and kicked the boy. Hiccup cried out plaintively.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry..." he repeated brokenly. Spitelout stowed the switch and glared down at the boy.

"Now you know what will happen when you disobey your Chief," he snarled. "You mess up again and I'll be back, boy. Understand?" Hiccup nodded wildly, burying his head in his arms as the door slammed behind his uncle. As soon as he was sure the man was gone, he collapsed into a mess of sobbing. His entire body was hurting, his back and backside excruciating. Even sobbing hurt his welts and it took a long time before he could compose himself enough to slid his leggings up and cautiously pulled his tunic down, hissing as the fabric settled in his scored hide.

He swiped his face with his sleeve, slowly raising his head. It wasn't just the thrashing-though that was far the worst punishment he had ever endured-but the fact that his Dad had authorised and ordered it. He hadn't even bothered to say anything to his son: he had just sent his brother to execute the punishment. He wasn't even worth telling he was going to be beaten. He swallowed and swiped away a couple more tears. His Dad was never going to accept him.

With a huge amount of effort, he levered himself up to his knees. He wasn't going to stay in the house: he needed to get away and think. Somehow, he had to prove himself, to be accepted. If not, he feared what Snotlout would do when he was Chief. He reached up to the table and hauled his screaming body to a pair of very wobbly legs. He had to support himself as he staggered to his vest and snatched up his journal. He stared resolutely at the back door: he had a dragon to find.


	3. Chapter Three

**Three.**

Stoick cast his brother a thoughtful glance as he joined the council in the Great Hall. Spitelout nodded cheerily and took the plaudits of the other villagers with good humour. In truth, he had derived rather more enjoyment in beating Hiccup that was decent but the boy had been a thorn in the village's side for so many years that it felt good to take action.

"Well done!"

"That needed doing!"

"Maybe he'll finally learn!"

"Doubt he'll be sitting for a week!"

"Is he alright?' Stoick asked softly.

"Weeping like a girl but yes, though they're right, he won't be sitting down any time soon," Spitelout told him. "Haven't had to thrash my boy like that. Ever." Stoick sighed, dismissing any more thoughts if the boy in favour of his job.

"We need to search for the nest!" the Chief announced, stabbing his finger at the map. To the northeast, there as the permanently mist-shrouded region known as 'Helheim's Gate' which was certainly where the nest was located. But no ship had ever returned from the area. "We can't sustain these raids. We will starve! So one more search before the ice sets in!"

The protests were to be expected, the cries of men and women who knew the history of expeditions to Helheim's Gate but Stoick answered all queries with calm reason. He knew they would go, because they were Vikings and Vikings hated sitting passively accepting their fate. Death was an occupational hazard. "Anyone who stays behind can look after Hiccup!" he announced and there was an immediate clamour of volunteers to go on the expedition. Spitelout leaned closer.

"Are you sure you want come, brother?" he asked. Stoick nodded.

"I have to be there," he said heavily. "This is my war." His brother nodded. "Start preparing the ships!" As his brother left swiftly and the hall emptied, he turned to the one person still sitting calmly.

"I'll pack my undies," Gobber assured him.

"I need you here, training new recruits," Stoick told him gruffly. Gobber gave a grin and sipped from his mug of ale.

"And while I'm training the recruits, Hiccup can mind the store. Plenty of time to himself, lots of sharp objects, what could possibly go wrong?" His tone oozed sarcasm. Stoick glanced at him: Gobber knew his son better than Stoick himself did.

"What am I going to do with him?" he asked his friend. Gobber stared at his mug and sighed.

"Allowing Spitelout to beat him so publicly wasn't the right answer," he said slowly.

"But his disobedience needed to be punished!" Stoick argued. "The village demanded..."

"Then you should have done it!" Gobber told him. Stoick frowned.

"With my injuries..."

"You can still wield a switch, Stoick!" Gobber told him bluntly. "The boy would be hurt and upset, but he would obey you, bend forward and take the blows. He could ask you why. You could talk to him. He loves you, my friend. Allowing Spitelout to go up there, to terrorise and brutalise him, won't make him better. I guess he'll try even harder to prove himself because he'll feel you didn't even care enough to do the deed yourself."

"Oh, Gobber, why did I have to have him as my son?" he asked. Gobber sighed.

"He is your son and you're more alike than you realise," he said softly. "Both stubborn, bone-headed, irresponsible..."

"Gobber!"

"Put him in dragon training!" Gobber said, knowing his apprentice's dearest wish.

"What? He'll be killed before you even release the first dragon!" Stoick was horrified. He didn't want the boy dead, just...better.

"You don't know that!" Gobber told him irritably.

"I do!"

"No, you don't!"

"Yes, I do!"

"No, you _don't_!" Gobber insisted. Stoick sat at his side.

"Even when he was a boy he was different. He has the attention span of a sparrow. He goes hunting trolls when we should be fishing. He..."

"Trolls exist!" Gobber said urgently. He felt a little guilty, having stuffed the boy's head with tales of trolls and causing the boy no end of scoldings from his father. To his credit, Hiccup had never blamed Gobber for his belief in trolls.

"When I was a boy, my father told me to hit my head against a rock," Stoick said thoughtfully. "And you know what I did?"

"You got a headache?" Gobber asked.

"I did it. The rock cracked. It showed me what a Viking can do! Even as a boy, I knew what I was, what I could do. Hiccup is not that boy!" Gobber stared at him. Stoick was always so wrapped up in how disappointed he was with the boy that he forgot the lad's positive qualities. Hiccup was brave, determined, clever, inventive and quick-witted. He just wasn't muscular. And the scrawny lightweight had been disinherited, ignored and effectively disowned by the father he loved dearly.

"I know," Gobber said. He sighed. "No matter how much you ignore it, he is your son and he loves you. He just wants to be a Viking. You can't protect him and he will go out there again. Hel, he's probably out there now! Just...try to remember that he is your son and everything he does is to impress you!"

oOo

Hiccup paused by the tree and breathed against the dizziness. His back was getting worse and he felt ill but he kept moving, stumbling through the fallen trees and dense bushes until he had searched every inch of the forest. He made a final mark on his map in his journal, then snapped the book closed and tucked it into his vest.

"Oh, the gods hate me!" he moaned. Not that that was news! "Some people lose their knife or their mug. Me, I lose a whole dragon!" He stared wearily across the slope, the trees blocking most of the light. He slapped a branch away in frustration and it sprang back, hitting him full in the face. He groaned and turned, clutching his cheek. And then he saw the furrow, leading from the tree in front which had a branch wrenched off, as if by a huge impact.

He cautiously slid into the deep gully and walked down the slope. His heart was beating fast, his entire body tense. And then he topped a small rise and he saw it: the sleek black shape with the blunt muzzle and bat-like wings, his four sturdy paws tangled in the bolas Hiccup had shot. He forgot about everything but getting closer and he jumped over the little hummock and dashed to hide behind a big rock, nervously clutching his belt knife. Cautiously, he peeked out.

"Oh wow!" he said, astonished. He had finally done something right! "This-this fixes everything!" It would finally earn him respect from the village and maybe, his father would be proud of him. The dragon was lying still, so he walked forward. "I-I have brought down this mighty beast!" And he raised a foot to rest on its head in a triumphant gesture when the dragon took a deep breath that had him back-pedalling at top speed and hitting the rock behind him. He cringed, arching his back against the sudden explosion of pain the impact caused. Painfully, he levered himself back to his feet.

The dragon was completely tangled and helpless, but as he looked, the black beast opened stunningly green eyes and inspected the skinny shape standing above him. Hiccup clasped his knife more securely in his hand and lifted it above the dragon. He said the words aloud to give himself courage because his stomach was doing somersaults with fear. "I'm gonna cut your heart out, dragon, and take it to my Dad." Maybe then he'll be proud of his dragon-killing son. And they'll have to stop calling me Useless. "I am a Viking. I AM A VIKING!"

His voice had risen and the boy was glaring down on the dragon. Its eyes widened as it read his intent and it knew, helpless and bound, that it was done. Its eyes widened further in a final silent plea but what hope could a dragon have from a Viking? The wide green gaze gleamed with fear and final acceptance before it lay its head down with a little, defeated moan and closed its eyes waiting for the end.

Hiccup closed his hand tighter round the handle of his belt knife and tensed, waiting for the blow. His arm raised and he stole a final glance at the pleading dragon. He closed his eyes and raised his arm higher...and then he stopped. He sagged. The eyes haunted him. The dragon was helpless and afraid-two things Hiccup knew an awful lot about. And Hiccup suddenly realised he couldn't murder a helpless and bound creature, no matter what species it was. He rested his hands on his head and gave a huge sigh.

"Oh, I did this," he murmured in an ashamed voice. He had brought this sleek and elegant dragon down just to prove himself. He was going to kill a living creature just to make a point. A creature as frightened as he was. He shuddered. That wasn't who he was. "I did this," he repeated. Then he turned away. He couldn't kill the dragon.

He was an utter failure, as a son, a warrior and as a Viking. If he had any honour, he should haul his whipped ass out to sea in a boat and wait for the sea-dragons to finish him. But he didn't want to die and he knew, in his heart, he had something to offer. Maybe as the smith once Gobber retired? He would never be respected, probably wouldn't even be allowed to marry but at least he would be part of Berk.

He looked over his shoulder and saw the dragon, helpless. If not Hiccup, then another could stumble across it and slay the dragon, getting credit for Hiccup's work. That would figure. And the person would probably be Snotlout, knowing Hiccup's luck! Or the dragon would just lie here and starve, dying an even more dishonourable and unpleasant death than Hiccup could deal it. So with a sigh and a silent prayer to the gods, Hiccup darted forward, hissing in pain and sawed through the ropes with his knife. Green eyes snapped open at the sound and as soon as the tension around its paws eased, the dragon was free.

Hiccup felt himself flung back against the rock, screaming in pain as he smacked hard on his back. His vision blurred red for a long moment-and when it cleared, he was staring directly into the furious green glare of the dragon. The Night Fury was bent venomously over him, his nostrils flaring and teeth bared as it leaned over the cowering boy. Beyond all words and feeling the dragon's claws resting tight against his neck, he could only stare back in utter terror and await his end. His final screw-up. He wildly thought that at least no one else would have to suffer for his incompetence.

The Night Fury opened its jaws and leaned over him-and then it ROARED. The sound hit him like a blow, pressing him against the mossy ground and crushing the air from his lungs. His ears were ringing and his head spinning as the monster whipped away, launching into the air with a shriek, it's erratic and jerky flight bouncing it from tree to tree before it finally vanished over the ridge.

It was a long moment before Hiccup could regain his breath and automatically, he sat up. Everything hurt and his head was still spinning. He clasped his belt knife-how could he think such a toy would be of any use against such a monster?-and shakily levered his thin frame to his feet. It was a good thing no one would bother asking him where he'd been because no one would believe it either. He turned back to the village to face the music for leaving his home when he had been ordered to stay put and took one step before the buzzing in his ears grew deafening and the knife dropped from his nerveless fingers. With a sigh, he dropped bonelessly by it, unconscious.

oOo

He had been thinking furiously as he made his slow and painful way back to Berk. Every step was jolting pain through his abused shape and his stomach was growling to remind him he had missed breakfast, lunch and tea. Night had fallen as he reached his home and he pulled his sore shoulders back. Time to face the music.

As expected, his father was home and poking the fire as he slid through the door and he closed it silently before walking quickly and quietly towards the steps up to his loft bedroom. No amount of hunger would persuade him to seek for food in the store-which he was sure was empty anyway-and face his Dad. But as he scrambled up the steep stairs on all fours-another habit that seemed to irritate his father- Stoick sat up straight.

"Hiccup?" he said. His tone was grim. The boy backed down the stairs and stood straight and anxious.

"Hi, Dad," he murmured. He was inspecting the floor furiously. Stoick beckoned him closer and, stiffly, his son took a couple of reluctant steps forward.

"Where have you been ?" he demanded. The boy winced and stared at the floor.

"Raven Point," he admitted reluctantly.

SLAP! Stoick floored the boy with a powerful open-handed blow. Hiccup bit down on his scream of pain and he landed on his scored backside. He pressed a hand to his face, his green eyes wild with shock.

"D-dad?" he murmured. "W-why...?"

"I ordered you to stay in the house!" Stoick snarled. He beckoned and Hiccup painfully clambered to his feet.

"I-I'm s-sorry..." Hiccup said in a low voice.

"Speak up!" Stoick snarled. "Gods damn it! Can't you even string a sentence together without mumbling like an idiot?"

"I-I'm s-sorry..."

The slap floored him and he managed to land on his side, though he still clutched at his cheek and looked up fearfully at his father. The firelight gilded his raised hand and the boy whimpered but climbed to his feet.

"How-how is that going to-to improve my speech?" Hiccup asked quietly. He expected the blow but it still knocked him to the ground. With a sigh, he scrambled up. His head was spinning.

"You get your wish, boy. Dragon training. Starts tomorrow." Stoick's voice was an announcement, not a discussion.

"But I don't want to fight dragons!" That, at least, had been clear. He had clarified a lot of things on his long trudge home.

"Nonsense! This is what you have been asking for all these years!"

"Dad-I can't kill dragons!" Hiccup's tone was desperate.

"You will kill dragons," Stoick told him confidently.

"No, Dad-I'm really very extra sure I won't!" Hiccup told him. "I-I think we've got more than enough dragon killing Vikings. Maybe we need more baking Vikings...or small home repair Vikings...or even blacksmith..." Stoick's blow was harder and knocked the wind out of him. Hiccup saw stars as he stared up at the glaring shape of his Chief. "And this conversation is feeling very one sided!" He paused. "Nothing new there, either."

"It's time, Hiccup," Stoick told him, motioning him to his shaky feet and shoving an axe into his arms. Hiccup struggled to hold the heavy weapon and recognised the reconditioned axe head-Astrid's former axe-he had repaired. "You'll need this. And you need to cut out all of...this..." He gestured.

"You just gestured to all of me," Hiccup complained. Stoick ignored him as usual.

"You need to walk like us, talk like us, think like us!"

"That ship has sailed," Hiccup shot back, earning himself another hard slap. He staggered back and dropped his axe. Stoick easily lifted it with one hand as his son painfully straightened up.

"Are you deliberately trying to shame me, boy?" Stoick snarled.

"No, Dad, but do even consider me your son any more?" Hiccup asked him softly. His green eyes were wide with a mute plea for acceptance. "You never call me 'son' any more. You barely speak to me. You...you seem to think I am nothing. Is that true?" Stoick lifted his hand and the boy stiffened but steeled himself for the blow.

"You are my son," Stoick told him. "To my shame. I have to live down the taunts of having an embarrassing runt for a son."

"Have you considered what it's like actually _being_  that embarrassing runt of a son? Of being called _Useless_  and beaten up at every opportunity?"

"You deserve it," Stoick told him.

"And today? Did I deserve that?" Hiccup's voice was sharp.

"Of course. That has been coming for a long time." Stoick's tone was cruel.

"But you couldn't even deal with me yourself?" Hiccup asked. "I'm not even worth ten minutes of your time?"

"You destroyed half the village!"

"Yes, I personally sawed through that post and wasn't in fact hiding to try to save my life!" Hiccup's tone was so sarcastic that he was expecting the blow that floored him. He clutched at his burning cheek. "Anyone else wouldn't be penalised for not being eaten. But it's Hiccup the Useless so he doesn't count. When did you last call me _son_?" His tone was despondent now.

"Train hard," Stoick growled, ignoring him, and turned away. He rose and hefted a sack over his shoulder. His helmet was jammed onto his head and for a moment, Hiccup could be looking at his Dad of old. Except that Dad had sort of loved him. "We sail for the dragons nest. But I'll be back-probably." Hiccup stared up from the floor where he was curled, clutching his swollen cheek.

"And I'll be here-maybe!" Hiccup winced as the door slammed. He painfully levered himself to his feet and his legs almost collapsed. He gathered the last scraps from the cupboard and settled down by the fire. Life was just getting more and more fun! Today was his worst ever day, what with almost ending eaten by two dragons, thrashed by Spitelout and slapped around by his father. And now dragon training... He had no idea how Snotlout would behave if he showed up in class and his shoulders were tingling in anticipation. Maybe-just maybe-tomorrow would be a better day.


	4. Chapter Four

**Four.**

He awoke to the hammering on his door and Gobber bellowing to wake him up for dragon training. His boss knew the boy's father was away and probably guessed that even Hiccup wouldn't be too lively today. In fact, he was stiff as a board, his pain excruciating and face swollen and bruised from the blows his father had given him. He slowly got up and shucked his tunic off. There were a handful of thin bloodstains on the back from his thrashing and he shuddered. He scrambled in his chest and found his other tunic, dragging it and his vest on.

Dragon training! His father couldn't have come up with a better way to humiliate him in front of the the other teens. He was already the favourite target for the bullies and adding dragons and Gobber into the mix would probably end in his death. But his father had insisted so Hiccup would have to go through with it, though he doubted his decision would change. He couldn't kill a dragon.

There was nothing in the store so he limped to the Great Hall, ran the gauntlet of Vikings making 'funny' comments about how his back was feeling and forced down a breakfast he had suddenly little appetite for. He guessed he was late so he lifted his axe and trotted stiffly down the hill to the Dragon Killing Arena where the other teens were just entering. Hiccup hung back because it was always a wise policy rather than get in range of Snotlout's fists. He could hear the others.

"No going back!" That was Astrid, her voice calm and determined.

"I hope I get some serious mauling!" Tuffnut announced.

"I'm hoping for some burns in my shoulder and lower back," Ruffnut added. Hiccup could see the twins were carrying spears. Both the twins actively helped Snotlout beat Hiccup up and the boy tried to steer clear of them as well.

"Yeah, it's only fun if you get a scar," Astrid agreed and Hiccup finally entered the ring. He hefted his axe onto his shoulder with a wince.

"Yeah. Pain- _love_ it!" he said sarcastically as he joined them. He was greeted by the chorus of groans and the total lack of enthusiasm he was familiar with.

"What's he doing here?"

"Get out, Useless!"

"Can I train in the class with the cool kids?"

"Useless has already killed a Night Fury so does that disqualify him?"

He stopped. He wasn't sure he could do this, with the blizzard of taunts already swirling around him. He swallowed, his bruised face downcast. Then he winced as Gobber carelessly gripped him round the shoulders, forgetting his welts.

"They will see you as weak and insane and ignore you in favour of the more Viking-like teens," Gobber told him in what was supposed to be a reassuring tone.

"Never stopped them before," Hiccup reminded him in a pained voice. Gobber peered at him and grinned.

"They'll have bigger fish to fry!" he promised and shoved Hiccup into line by Fishlegs. The boy had been one of Hiccup's best friends when he was younger, a geeky and awkward boy who was also intelligent and self-effacing. But Fishlegs had hit his growth spurt as the bullying had really taken off and he had drifted away from the smaller boy, leaving Hiccup completely friendless to face his bullies. But Hiccup didn't especially blame him: who would want to risk the targeting by the bigger boys as well as their own group for _Useless_?

Gobber was talking through the dragons they would train as Fishlegs quoted dragon facts from his cards. Geeky to the end, the boy-the biggest and bulkiest in the class-had memorised the Dragon Manual and devised his own collector cards on every species known. In fact, Gobber had to shout at Fishlegs to shut him up. And then he opened the cage of the Gronckle.

"Whoa, whoa-aren't you going to teach us anything?" Snotlout asked him in horror as the gates opened.

"I believe in learning on the job!" Gobber announced and Hiccup gave the flicker of a smile. That was the Gobber he knew. And then the Gronckle emerged, flying out, munching a mouthful of rocks and then quartering the arena and the anxious teens who were staring up at the dragon. "Right-what's the first thing you need?"

"A doctor?" Hiccup called, imagining himself munched by the dragon or scorched by its lava-like flames.

"Plus five speed?" That was Fishlegs.

"A shield!" Astrid's voice rang out as she sprinted for the rack. The others followed her lead and as the twins fought over a cool shield with a skull on it, Hiccup struggled to grasp a shield while hanging onto his hated axe. Gobber shoved the shield into his arms and snatched the axe away.

"If you have to choose between a shield and anything else, choose the shield!" he advised. The dragon blasted the twins, who were till squabbling over the shield. "Ruffnut, Tuffnut-you're out!" The blacksmith stared round his class. "What's the shot limit of a Gronckle?"

"Five?" guessed Snotlout.

"No! Six shots!" Fishlegs exclaimed, jumping up and down like an eager school kid. The Gronckle blasted his shield away.

"Correct-one for each of you. Fishlegs-you're out!" Hiccup ducked behind a wooden board and was shouted back when he peeked out. The Gronckle narrowly missed him. Meanwhile, Snotlout was hitting on Astrid. Hiccup knew his cousin was after Astrid: he was the best Viking of this generation and the heir while she was far the prettiest girl on the island. What was there to argue about? Except Astrid seems to be impervious to his manly charms and genuinely looked as if she would rather date the Gronckle. In another situation, Hiccup would be smothering a grin at Snotlout's discomfort but he was still to focussed on the dragon. As was Astrid and she leapt away as Snotlout, who was paying far too much attention to the girl, was blasted aside by the Gronckle. Hiccup suddenly found Astrid at his side, clutching his shield ferociously.

"So-so, just you and me, eh?" he stammered, unable to believe that she was standing right next to him! She flicked him a dismissive glance.

"No-just you!" she snapped and dived away as the Gronckle's blast glanced him and sent his shield rolling across the arena. Gobber's words rolled around his head as he sprinted after his shield. He had to get the shield! But the Gronckle had recognised the easier target and was after him and he found himself cornered, pressed helpless against the wall. The Gronckle hovered closer and closer, its pupils narrowed as it prepared to end him. His heart was hammering in his chest and he had curled up as tight as he could, hoping it wouldn't hurt too much. He could see the glow building in the dragon's mouth...

A hook jerked the dragon up as it fired and Hiccup felt the heat singe the ends of his hair as the blast missed him by inches. Gobber tossed the dragon away. "Yer out!" he announced. "Get back in yer cage, yer overgrown sausage!" Hiccup was shaking like a leaf as the doors of the cage slammed and the bar slid into place, trapping the dragon. He wondered if his heart would ever slow down.

"Remember, a dragon will always-always-go for the kill!" Gobber announced, staring hard at Hiccup. The boy gave a huge sigh of relief. Three times in two days a dragon had almost killed him! Surely his luck must be improving!

But then, as Gobber ambled from the arena, Snotlout and the twins closed on the trembling Hiccup and the boy stared up at them with a sigh. "Come on-you gotta be kidding!" he pleaded.

"Useless, this is MY chance to shine and I don't need you screwing it up!" Snotlout snarled. Hiccup backed up until he hit the wall of the arena and winced.

"B-believe me, I-I didn't want this either," he stammered. "M-my D-dad insisted I came. P-please, I-I just don't wanna get k-killed!" Snotlout slammed his fist into the smaller boy's stomach and Hiccup doubled up with a groan.

"I'll kill you myself if you mess up my chances with Astrid!" Snotlout snarled. Hiccup painfully straightened up.

"I'm not likely to do that," he winced. Snotlout frowned, unable to decide if it was a snide comment or not. He punched Hiccup's face just in case. The boy dropped to his knees, his head bowed.

"Don't mess with my mind!" Snotlout snarled.

"What mind?" Hiccup murmured, earning himself a kick. Then Snotlout gave a nasty smile.

"How's your back feeling, Useless?" he asked. Hiccup glanced up, still clutching his stomach.

"I have a name," he protested weakly. Snotlout fisted the dishevelled auburn hair and forced the boy to stare into his angry blue eyes.

"And I asked you a question, Useless!" Snotlout menaced. "How's your back?" Hiccup swallowed, his bruised face paling under his freckles.

"Sore," he admitted in a small voice. Snotlout manhandled him to his feet and nodded to the twins, who gripped his arms firmly. "Please..." he begged but Snotlout grabbed his face, his fingers sinking into the bruises.

"Guess Daddy wasn't to happy with his little screw-up, was he, Useless?" Hiccup blinked.

"N-no..." he admitted ashamedly. Snotlout grinned.

"You know, my Dad said he never had to beat me that hard, but that you really needed what he gave you!" he sneered. Then he nodded and the twins spun the boy round so that Snotlout could drag up his tunic.

"Snotlout, what are you...?" Hiccup protested, feeling the brush of cold air across his tender back. Snotlout ignored him, roughly fingering a scabbed weal. Hiccup flinched.

"Hmm. He really went to town on you, didn't he, Useless?" Snotlout sneered, feeling the boy tremble. Hiccup's breathing accelerated and he was fighting against his captors. So Snotlout slapped him hard across the rear. The effect was spectacular as the boy yelped and jerked away. "And a sore ass as well? That should be fun!" Hiccup began to tremble harder. He felt so vulnerable and knew his cousin had no mercy or compassion. He shook his head pleadingly.

"Just let me go-please, Snotlout!" he begged pitifully. Snotlout swatted his rear again and grinned at his pained yelp. He struggled again so Snotlout hit him hard across the back. He screamed.

"Useless, we can either have a bit of fun or we can make it really painful for you!" he menaced. Hiccup swallowed anxiously.

"What's the difference?" he asked wearily. Snotlout slapped his rear again.

"How loud you scream," he told the trembling boy.

oOo

They left him curled up, sobbing on the floor of the arena. He could hear them laughing at his pitiful showing as they walked away but all he could do was lie there until the pain and humiliation eased. They had spanked him like a child and his wounds had made him yelp and whimper like a wuss. He had struggled a few times, earning the far more painful slaps across his scored back and he had finally done as they asked and begged him to stop. He hadn't cared about appearing weak or humiliated: he had just wanted them to stop torturing him.

Finally, he could sit up stiffly and rubbed his swollen eyes and tear-streaked face. He hadn't asked for any of this. All he had wanted was a Dad who loved him and a safe home. He wasn't greedy enough to ask for a Mom-his had been taken when he was a baby-or any friends because he knew that wouldn't happen. And he really wanted his cousin to stop torturing him but he doubted that would end. The best he could hope was that Snotlout would exile him when he became Chief.

He staggered to his feet. There was no way he would go back to the village-or even to work at the forge. He needed some room to think and be away from everyone who hated him for a while. So, painfully, he headed back to where he had found the dragon-and shamefully spared its life. But it had spared his as well and that troubled him. Remember, a dragon will always-always-go to the kill!

He crouched by the sliced remnants of the bola and lifted one of the stone weights. "So why didn't you?" he murmured and achingly rose to his feet. Aimlessly, he wandered in the direction the dragon had flown off and found himself at the edge of a cove, a rocky depression surrounded by trees with a nice little lake nestling in the centre. He paused and entered through a crack and stood on a ledge: it was beautiful and isolated, with shelter from the wind and birds fluttering around. Even if the dragon was long gone, it was a beautiful place that he could come to when he needed a while away from his tormentors.

Then his boot kicked something and he crouched down to see circular black dragon scales. Hiccup could recognise them immediately because there were always scales scattered around the village after a raid. But he had never seen black scales: the only black dragon he had ever seen was the Night Fury. He frowned and peered at the scales once more-and then a black blur zoomed a yard to his left, screeching and scrabbling. He could feel the wind from its wings, hear the scrape of claws on rock and almost taste the frustration as the dragon peeled away from the rocky wall and glided inelegantly down to the ground.

Hiccup clutched the wall and calmed his breathing. The dragon launched again, initially flying up but then sagging to its left and crashing with a despairing shriek. The Night Fury fired at a the ground in a gesture of pure frustration that Hiccup could recognise so well. He frowned and crawled forward.

"Why don't you just fly away!" he murmured and instinctively snatched his journal out. He found his charcoal pencil in his left hand and it flew over the page as he sketched the dragon. Art was one of the things that Hiccup excelled at-not that anyone cared. He was a matchless draftsman and a quick and accurate artist. In moments, he had drawn the dragon, from the blunt head with the multiple appendages sticking back over the neck; the huge bat-like wings spread from a sleek body and the long sinuous tail with the fins at the end. Then he frowned: he had drawn what he expected, not what he observed. He looked again, then rubbed the left tail fin out. It was missing.

Guilt assailed him. That was why the dragon couldn't fly or escape. In fact, it was almost certainly why the dragon had become trapped. And it had been able to fly with precision, grace and speed until he had shot it down. He swallowed as the dragon flamed at the ground to heat up a spot for it to rest. As Hiccup watched, the dragon snapped at the fish in the lake without success and then curled up, looking as miserable as Hiccup felt. His appendages-ears?-twitched at the trill of a bird and Hiccup saw the dragon glance up with something that was definitely longing. He felt worse.

He shifted and his pencil slipped from his grasp, rolling off the ledge and landing on the ground with a click. The dragon's head snapped round and it stared hard at the boy. He swallowed, seeing the piercing green glaze inspect him angrily. He sighed. Even the dragon hated him. And why wouldn't it? He had stolen its ability to fly and now he was looking at it when it would rather be alone. He sighed again. At least he could sympathise with that.


	5. Chapter Five

Five.

Astrid had seen Hiccup wander achingly through the woods and had noted his eyes were swollen and face streaked with tears. She hefted her axe and launched it accurately into a tree. Practice, practice, practice...her father had drummed that into her from the moment he handed her the magnificent axe for her tenth birthday. She had been so delighted and had been amazed he could afford such a magnificent weapon for her. She knew they were poor: he must have saved for ages to get her axe. She was determined not to disappoint him.

But as she wrenched the axe from the tree, she glanced in the direction Hiccup had trudged. It was a defeated walk, the walk of someone who had no hope and that made her uncomfortable. She had heard Snotlout and the twins accost him at the end of training and she had walked away, not wanting to take part in the bullying but not helping the boy either. And why would she? Hiccup was the village screw-up, a boy so utterly hopeless he had been stripped of his status as heir to the Chief, a disgrace unheard-of in Berk's three hundred year history. He was clumsy, disobedient, an utter disaster...

She stared at her axe. He had serviced it and the weapon had never been better. The edge was really keen, the balance perfect and the shine he had managed was exceptional. He _wasn't_ useless and she had begun to cringe whenever she heard him called the epithet. It clearly hurt him badly but he just accepted the abuse with a pained shrug. And, come to think of it, all he did was try to fight dragons and protect his village. His incompetence could perhaps have been corrected if anyone took the time-but she could see that all anyone considered he was worth was shouting at, humiliating and now, beating.

She threw the axe again with a scream, hitting the target dead centre. She shouldn't be wasting time concentrating on Hiccup when she had to ensure she was top at dragon training and keep Snotlout in his place-which was preferably three islands away from her. But she felt bad that he was suffering so much: she could still recall the kind, funny and curious boy who had been her friend when they were little-before he fell behind in size and morphed into the clumsy runt everyone despised. Under it all, he had to be the same person who had been her friend and she wondered if he had understood why she had ditched him. Popularity was universal, right? Even Hiccup knew no one would want to associate with the pariah he had become.

Angry at herself, she threw the axe again. There were still a few hours of daylight and there was training to do.

oOo

It was raining when Hiccup reached the edge of the forest and he sighed as the rain came down harder. He was getting soaked but it suited his mood. He was in pain and feeling horribly alone and guilty. There really was nothing he could do that was right. But he had to head for the Great Hall: even if Gobber hadn't mumbled something about the class eating together for a debriefing of the day's action, there wasn't a scrap of food in the house. He guessed he should have collected some today instead of hiding in the forest but ultimately, he was the one who would suffer and he had needed the time alone.

When he walked in, he was dripping and only there were only a handful of people in the hall. Of course, most of the warriors were off, in the quest for the nest, but the dragon training class were occupying a big table and discussing their performance. Hiccup wearily trudged up to the table to collect the plate of food they had collected for him. The others had finished long before and he paused. Snotlout deliberately moved across to leave no space for him at the table and with a sigh, he just walked to the next table and picked his food. They didn't want to sit with him: hey, he could appreciate that. Sometimes, he didn't want to sit with himself.

"I was sloppy and that threw my backflip off," Astrid finished, her self-critique precise and honest. Snotlout just gushed over her.

"No, it was brilliant-so Astrid!" he told her. she pulled a face. Gobber saw their final class-member sitting alone and stared at the others.

"What did Hiccup do wrong?" he asked. Hiccup tensed: he could feel it coming.

"He showed up?"

"He was born?"

Yeah, yeah, got no say in any of those things, he thought miserably.

"He's never where he's meant to be!" Astrid announced. Gobber nodded and nudged Hiccup to make him pay attention.

"You have to live and breathe this stuff!" he reminded them then slammed down a gnarled and slightly foxed and definitely dragoned book onto the table. "The Dragon Manual. Everything we know about every dragon!" he explained then tilted his head as thunder rumbled outside. "No attacks tonight! Study up!" And he walked away to a chorus of complaints.

"What read-while we're alive?"

"Why read stuff when we can just kill the stuff that the words are about?" Snotlout complained.

"Oooh! Oooh! Oooh! I've read it like six times and there's this dragon-the Scauldron-that kills its victims with boiling water and…"

"Yeah…and I might have read it before…but now…" Ruffnut told him and left with her twin, Snotlout and Fishlegs all still talking at top speed. Hiccup saw his chance and warily rose to approach the book-and Astrid.

"Er…so…we can share…" he began, gesturing vaguely at the book but she rose brusquely without even looking at him.

"Read it!" she snapped and stalked away. He stared at her back and felt his heart crash to the pit of his stomach.

"Oh…all for me then…" he said, trying to sound as if he wasn't crushed by her rejection. "I'll see-see you…" The door slammed. "…tomorrow," he finished with a sigh.

He finished his dinner with his back to the fire, trying to dry off and warm up. Everyone had left shortly after and he found himself alone with a couple of candles in the dark and distinctly spooky hall. He wasn't really afraid of the dark but he was feeling vulnerable and a little excited. Maybe it could tell him more about the dragon he had downed?

He opened the heavy, wood-hard cover and peered at the writing.

"Dragon classifications: Strike Class, Fear Class, Mystery Class…" he read and flipped the page. Every entry involved a description of the dragon, a usually unpleasant picture of how it killed its victims and a recommendation which was exactly the same for every dragon: EXTREMELY DANGEROUS-KILL ON SIGHT.

Failed there as well, he thought to himself.

The thunder roared and lightning flashed and he jumped, suddenly feeling very alone. He supposed that he could go home and read the book there but home wasn't really that great a place either. he flicked through the pages, searching through the entries until he found the one he was searching for: NIGHT FURY.

The entry was sparse, to say the least. No picture, just a wide blank expanse with a small amount of writing at the bottom. He read quickly:

"Size: Unknown. Speed: unknown. The unholy offspring of lightning and death itself. If you encounter it: hide and pray it does not find you."

He fished out his journal and looked at his sketch.

"Speed: _really really fast_. Size: _wingspan must be 45 to 50 feet, easy_. Food: _fish, I guess_. Appearance…"

He tossed his journal onto the book: he had a picture. He knew more about Night Furies than anyone else! But surely that couldn't be right? The Vikings had been at war with the dragons for three centuries and those three pathetic lines were all they knew? He shook his head. He would have to ask Gobber in the morning.

oOo

Astrid inspected her axe thoughtfully, admiring how the metal gleamed in the firelight. Her father was rubbing his crippled legs and supping a large mug of spiced mead as his daughter finished recounting her first day of dragon training. He had scarcely seen her so excited and yet he sensed she was holding something back. He sighed. He had been injured during the dragon raids when Astrid was small-not long after her Uncle Finn had been killed by the Flightmare. His legs were weak, not useless, but it was enough to stop him being a warrior and lose honour for the Hoffersons. He was good with animals and they kept chickens, sheep and yaks but Astrid was their great hope.

"Sounds like an instructive lesson," he commented gently. She shrugged and polished her axe again.

"More like self-instructive," she admitted then glanced up. "I've been meaning to wonder, Dad. How did you manage to afford this axe? It's the best weapon I've ever seen and I know money's tight…" Olaf Hofferson sighed and rubbed his forehead. This was the conversation that he had been hoping to avoid. He took a sip of his mead.

"Actually, I didn't," he admitted. "I discussed with Gobber at length but there was no way I could ever afford such fine weapon for you. The weapon you deserved. All you had were a dead uncle and a useless father."

"You're not useless!" she told him angrily. "You're a great father, a fantastic herdsman and the best cook on the island!" Then she paused. "But how…?" The man looked embarrassed.

"I should have told you years ago!" he admitted ashamedly. "I asked Gobber and he knew I couldn't afford an axe for your birthday. But Hiccup was there was well-he had been working for Gobber for a couple of years by then-and he seemed to have decided to help. Because the day before your birthday, he knocked on my door and presented me with an axe-that axe you hold."

Astrid gaped and her first instinct as to drop the blade in disgust. Her axe-was actually a gift from Hiccup? But she weighed it in her hand: it was the best weapon she had seen, perfectly balanced and superbly rebalanced by the man who had gifted it to her. And she knew that Hiccup was an excellent smith. Her father read her expression and nodded.

"Yes, he made it too," he said. "I didn't believe it so I checked with Gobber. The boy had to do double work for a month to earn the quality metals he needed and he made the whole thing himself. Gobber oversaw, of course, but he declared it one of the best axes he had ever seen. I checked it myself before I gave it to you and was satisfied it was worthy of my Astrid." She stared at him and felt uncomfortable asking the next question.

"So why didn't you tell me?" she asked. He looked away.

"Tell my only daughter that I couldn't afford the weapon she deserved?" he asked her quietly. "That I had to be grateful for the beneficence of a ten year old boy for a weapon worthy of my Astrid? That I should have easily been able to provide? I was too proud, of course. And now I am ashamed that you ever had to know-both of my failure and my pride!" She rose and threw a huge hug around him, ensuring he knew of her love and trust in him.

"You should have told me!" she scolded him gently. "I would never have thought badly of you, Dad, because you give everything to me. You taught me to use the axe, how to train, how to become a warrior! You love and support and help me every day! How could I not love you?" And then her face fell and she walked slowly back to the axe, stroking the haft gently. "But if I had known, I could have thanked Hiccup. He must think me a terrible person to take this superb gift and say nothing. He must watch me use it every single day and wish for one word of acknowledgment. And I…I could have been nicer to him. He really doesn't have any friends, does he?" Olaf Hofferson shook his head.

"Since the raid, he has been almost shunned by the village," he confirmed.

"Dad-why does it happen?" she asked. "I mean, he's pretty clumsy and awkward but I don't think he deserves the treatment he gets. Why is it allowed to happen?" Hofferson sighed and stared at the fire.

"If his father told us to treat him decently, we would," he told her quietly. "But instead, all he does is shout at the boy and humiliate him in front of the village. Is it any wonder that the rest of us follow the Chief's lead?" Astrid felt her blood run cold as the implication struck her. His own father was responsible for his abysmal treatment. And Stoick knew it.

"Maybe…maybe if he was treated better, he may learn rather than just try harder on his own," she murmured. Hofferson nodded.

"You know, the boy makes and services all of our weapons," he admitted. "Gobber said that he could cut the price to a quarter of the usual because it was his apprentice. But he was winking as he said it because we both knew he was an excellent smith. We actually have the best quality weapons in the village!" Then he shrugged. "But, of course, we can't tell anyone because they would just scorn his skills." She sighed.

"If only he hadn't come out that raid, if his father hadn't been injured, then maybe, people wouldn't hate him as much," she sighed. She was starting to feel really uncomfortable as she heard more and more that she didn't know about Hiccup and felt worse as her father slumped back in the seat.

"I know he was almost cast out for that but I know he only broke cover because there was someone else out as well," he admitted. She blinked. She hadn't seen anything on the fire crew. "It was a terrible raid, half the village was on fire and even I came out because we were almost on the verge of losing everything. And I saw young Gustav Larsson sneaking out and getting into trouble. He was cornered by a trio of Nadders and was certainly lost. I couldn't get to him-but Hiccup was in the forge and he saw. He grabbed a sword that he could barely lift and ran at them, managing to drive them back long enough to save that young boy's life."

"And then he was trapped and Stoick had to save him," Astrid realised. "The Chief was badly injured and Hiccup was blamed and publicly shamed. Spitelout and Snotlout beat him up on the spot. And when Stoick recovered, he disinherited the boy and made Snotlout his heir." She paused. "Why didn't he say anything?"

"He wasn't given a chance," her father told her sadly. "He was out-so he had disobeyed his father. His uncle and cousin beat him immediately-even while he was crying and trying to get to his father. It was pretty nasty, watching a grown man and his own cousin beat the lad to a bloody pulp. Gobber had to step in to stop them killing him on the spot because he was still Stoick's heir and no one was sure if the Chief would make it!"

"They wouldn't have touched him if they knew he had been saving a life," she guessed. Her father winced.

"You would hope," he said, "though his uncle and cousin were just waiting for a chance to dislodge the boy. I'm not sure how he'll last if his father doesn't come back. That cousin of his seems to bear him more malice than a bad-tempered dragon!" Astrid nodded, stroking her axe once more. "Astrid, lass-could you keep an eye on that poor boy? At least, try to persuade Snotlout not to do anything permanent to him before his father returns!"


	6. Chapter Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Warning-physical and sexual abuse/molestation ahead.

**Six.**

The next morning saw the class taking on a very agile and extremely irritated Deadly Nadder in a maze. The class had spent the first hour arranging the wooden panels in the arena to create the maze and the class were grumbling and running round trying to avoid the poison-coated spines. Hiccup, though, wasn't really playing full attention.

"I couldn't help noticing that there wasn't much about Night Furies in the Dragon Manual!" he called up to Gobber, who was watching from the stands. "Is-is there a sequel? Or maybe a Night Fury pamphlet?" Gobber rolled his eyes in exasperation. Stock was right about one thing: the boy really did have the attention span of a sparrow! Unfortunately, the Nadder was as focussed as an arrow!

"Look out!" he shouted and the boy suddenly realised the dragon was bearing down on him. He put his head down and sprinted along the maze and round the corner, evading the dragon for a moment. The twins ran into it and-predictably-started squabbling, only stopping when the dragon decided it wanted their attention and tried to blast them to ashes! Astrid and Snotlout met it next and Snotlout miserably failed to frighten it away, blaming the sun for spoiling his aim. Hiccup took his chance and craned his neck up to peer at Gobber.

"What would you do if you ran into a Night Fury?" he asked and Gobber scowled at him. The boy was persistent, to say the least.

"No one has ever lived to tell!" he snapped back at the lad. "Now get in there!" His tone was impatient. Hiccup peered to his right-to see Astrid making a shushing gesture. He flicked his gaze up-and saw the Nadder stalking towards him. He ducked down as Astrid and Snotlout front-flipped across the corridor the dragon was stalking down. Last in line, Hiccup tried to repeat the manoeuvre and ended up flat on his back with a cry, lying vulnerable in direct view of the dragon. It screeched and raced at him.

He scrabbled up and ran for it, unintentionally crossing over Astrid, who was immediately chased by the Nadder. She leapt up onto the partitions and ran along, the Nadder chasing her and demolishing the maze as it went. Hiccup had reached Gobber and was breathing hard. "But if you were to meet a Night Fury…" he began but Gobber pointed behind him.

"LOOK OUT!" he shouted as the barrier behind him came flying down, with Astrid leaping ahead of it. She collided with him and her axe embedded deeply in his shield. He went down under her and didn't have a moment to enjoy the proximity to Astrid because she looked fit to kill and the dragon had arrived. And anyway, she was trying to wrench the axe from his shield, nearly tearing his left arm out in the process.

"Let me…ow, ow, ow!" he began as she rested a foot on his chest. She could hear the dragon closing. With a huge jerk, she ripped the shield from his arm and smashed it across the dragon's face, knocking it silly and causing it to back away, stunned. Gobber nodded.

"Well done, Astrid!" he complimented her. She was the first one of the class to successfully defeat a dragon. "Top marks," he added. Normally, success would calm her but she was livid, completely livid at the fact she had almost gotten killed-and who was responsible. And she had been starting to feel sorry for him! She turned her ire to the little huddled shape at her feet. Hiccup was curled up as small as he could manage, trying not to provide much of a target. She advanced on him and shoved her axe into his throat, biting into the skin.

"Is this a joke to you?" she screamed. He flinched. "Our parents' war is about to become ours. You need to decide whose side you're on!" And she hefted her axe over her shoulder and stalked away, still seething. Gobber sighed and walked after her and Hiccup slowly uncoiled, shaking. Astrid was one of the few people who hadn't actively bullied him but her verbal attack had winded him. He blinked and achingly clambered to his feet-to see Snotlout and the twins waiting.

"I really don't need this!" he sighed as his cousin grasped the front of his tunic.

"You endangered my Princess, Useless!" he sneered. "I can't let this pass. You really need to learn to pay better attention…and I know just the way!"

oOo

Astrid was already feeling guilty as soon as she walked away from the arena, though she was still seething. How could he endanger her so stupidly? Why couldn't he do anything right? Why was he so…

And then she pulled herself up in absolute shame. She had almost done it. She had almost called Hiccup 'Useless'-the one thing she had sworn she wouldn't do. She knew he wasn't useless because he had made her axe. She knew he was kind because he had worked hard to earn the metal and craft her weapon. She knew he was brave because he had saved Gustav Larsson. And she knew he was utterly lacking in any confidence or friends because she had seen it every day for the last five years. So why had she almost joined the rest of the village in condemning him out of hand?

Because it's easy, she realised. Easier than analysing what happened. So she sat down outside her house and stared down the village and reran the exercise in her mind. She had to recall that she had won and been awarded top marks. Hiccup had been running from the dragon-not his fault-and he hadn't known she was there. She had been chosen by the dragon as they crossed and she had eventually led the dragon back to him. She had leapt on him and almost pulled his arm out. He had been pinned under her and helpless. If she hadn't taken out the dragon, he stood no chance. She took his shield off him and left him vulnerable. And then she had savagely torn into him in front of the class.

She winced. The look in his green eyes suddenly shone bright in her memory: it was pain. Her words had hurt him. And what did he have to be hurt by? Nothing…except that he had lost his mother to the dragons. His father had been wounded. He had spent years trying to fight them. He was trying to find out about Night Furies because he had this crazy idea to shoot one down. He knew which side he was on: he just doubted anyone was on his.

And she felt ashamed. She had jabbed her axe into his neck-the axe he had made for her which she had never thanked him for. She rose: she needed to apologise to him for her words and thank him for his gift. She guessed the thanks were long overdue: at least he would know she truly was grateful for his magnificent gift. Unflustered, she strode down the hill back to the Academy: she had heard Snotlout muttering as he headed towards the boy and guessed they would be bullying him once more.

But the arena was empty. There was no sign of anyone and she guessed they wouldn't have finished this quickly. With a frown, she headed up the village more quickly. Her sixth sense was telling her that he was in trouble and she didn't like that Snotlout and the twins had taken him away from the arena. In her mind, that suggested something deeply sinister. But there was no sign of them in the village. Beginning to worry more, she asked if anyone had seen Hiccup.

One of the villagers, a man who had a broken nose and a sprained ankle from the last raid stepped up. His name was Bjorn, Astrid recalled, though she was only on nodding acquaintance with the man. He had beckoned her over and paused, ensuring no one else was in earshot.

"I saw Snotlout and those twins marching him up to the little cattle shed on the edge of the forest," he said in a low voice. She frowned.

"Why would he go there?" she murmured. He shook his head.

"I don't think he wanted to go," he said carefully. "He was struggling and the twins were holding his arms like a prisoner. He was really struggling." She nodded and ran off as the man watched her. Bjorn had been touched when the boy came to see him the previous day, limping and stiff from the beating they had all listened to. He had explained that his device had hit Bjorn in the face at the forge and he apologised. His voice had been humble and his tone genuine. And then he had bowed his head and hunched his shoulders, as if expecting a blow. That had truly shocked the man, who had almost forgotten how he got the broken nose. He held no grudge but the fact that a young Viking could be so cowed by the village's treatment to expect a blow as routine had made him feel ashamed. He had forgiven the boy and thanked him for his courage and felt vindicated when the boy gave a genuine smile, his green eyes gleaming with gratitude at the kind words.

Astrid raced up the village, her sense of anxiety rising. Hiccup had been afraid-a boy who had run out to face three Nadders with a sword he could barely lift. And Snotlout was a vicious enemy. She approached the little shed and then slowed: she could hear voices.

"You nearly got my Princess killed, Useless!" That was Snotlout and the boy sounded mad and worse, mean. Astrid knew him well enough to know he had a vindictive streak a mile wide and no scruples whatsoever when he wanted to do something: reason enough, if any were needed, to consider him a dreadful replacement for the true heir.

"I-I didn't mean to…" The voice was hitching with pain and fear: Hiccup. There were snorts of laughter from the twins that grew louder at the sound of a slap and pained yelp. Second and third slaps were accompanied by much sharper cries.

"Ah, poor baby-didn't Daddy ever spank you like you deserved?" Snotlout taunted him.

"P-please, S-Snotlout…" Hiccup whimpered. There was another slap accompanied by a much louder scream. "P-please!" the boy begged.

Astrid sneaked to the door, her axe in her hand. Whatever was happening wasn't fair but something told her that walking straight in may not be the best and kindest option for Hiccup. So she opened the door a crack and peered in. And froze in shock.

Hiccup was naked-that much was obvious. His skinny and battered shape was crouched on his knees, bent forward, his arms held firmly by Ruffnut and Tuffnut, who were laughing loudly at his misery. His white back was totally covered with livid scarlet welts, many scabbed, from his shoulders all the way down over his skinny backside. And he was very skinny, the bones of backbone proud, his ribs obvious and shoulder blades sticking out like axe blades. His head was down and his shoulders were moving rhythmically with quiet sobs. She frowned. There were scarlet welts across his backside and mid-back from the slaps he had been dealt. There were dark purple bruises around his skinny arms where the twins held him helpless. And Snotlout was kneeling behind him, his hands caressing the boy's backside in an unsettling manner.

"Please, don't…" Hiccup whimpered as his cousin slapped his backside again. The younger boy flinched and emitted a strangled yelp.

"Look, Useless, I'm doing you a favour," Snotlout said, resuming his stroking of the boy's backside. "You don't want to die a virgin, do you?"

"I-I-I-I'm good…" Hiccup whimpered, struggling again. Snotlout raised his hand and slapped the boy straight across his lacerated back. He screamed. Satisfied with the result, Snotlout repeated the blow twice more and left Hiccup sagging forward, gasping with pain.

"You're hardly a man, and certainly not a Viking so really, I'm being very kind helping you like this!" Snotlout said, his hands dropping to his belt. Hiccup began shaking his head and begging once more but he could just whisper 'Please…"

Astrid shoved the door open and stood angrily in the doorway. "What the Hel are you doing, Snotlout?" she demanded. Every eye swung to look at her, shocked…all except Hiccup, who bowed his head and looked away, trying to conceal his face from her. He was desperately ashamed at his predicament. Snotlout gave her a nasty grin.

"Nothing to worry about, Princess!" he soothed her snidely. "Just let us finish. I'm teaching Useless here that he shouldn't endanger you in class…"

"I DON'T NEED YOUR PROTECTION!" she shouted furiously. "And what is he doing naked?" Snotlout swatted the boy's behind sharply and he gave a pained grunt.

"Oops, Useless," he taunted. "Your secrets are out! I'm sure Astrid wants to know how you begged us to stop you being a virgin and being your good friends, we brought you up here for a bit of privacy so we could do your scrawny ass…"

Astrid was looking at Hiccup as Snotlout continued his nasty tirade, describing in graphic and wholly unnecessary detail exactly how the boys were planning on relieving the Chief's son of his virginity. The boy's head was bowed as far as it could go and was shaking slightly. And the slight jerking of his shoulders told of silent, desolate sobs at the horrible shame he was feeling. She knew then that Snotlout was lying.

"I don't think so," she said coldly, brandishing her axe at Snotlout. She gestured her axe at Snotlout's bulging crotch, betraying just how excited he had gotten at abusing his smaller cousin. "You put that thing anywhere near him and I'll chop it off and feed it to the nearest dragon!"

"Hey-you can't speak to me like that!" Snotlout protested, his face reddening with anger. "I'm the Heir to Berk!" Astrid lifted his chin with her axe.

"That isn't necessarily a permanent gig, eh, Hiccup?" she asked, hating the fact she was taunting the sobbing boy but knowing she had to conceal how sorry she felt for him. There was the slight but definite shake of the head and Snotlout jerked his head away, viciously slapped him hard across his scored back once more. He gave a strangled gasp but he was sagging. "Now LET HIM GO!"

"Back off, Astrid!" Snotlout snarled, jumping to his feet and facing her, his face suddenly ugly. "I'm the Heir and my Dad told me to take care of Hiccup while he was away. And he didn't mean making sure he was warm and well-fed!"

"Clearly NOT!" she shouted back, wondering how many meals Hiccup missed. He was always skinny but now she guessed he was now seriously underweight. She realised it couldn't be much fun eating the Hall with so many hostile eyes on him and guessed he had skipped more meals than he had eaten. His father hadn't noticed. "But he is still the Chief's son and though Stoick clearly doesn't value him, he may be pretty mad if you kill him!" Snotlout frowned and then considered the words. He could imagine that the Chief would be mad if his little son was so badly damaged by Snotlout that he may disinherit Snotlout as well. He gestured to the twins and they rose.

"You got lucky, Useless!" he snarled. "This isn't over!" And with that, they slammed out of the door and left Astrid with Hiccup. She saw him curl up tighter, burying his head in his arms and really starting to sob. She sighed and crouched down by him, resting her axe against the doorframe.

"Hiccup?" she asked gently. He sniffed with a whimper and kept his head buried in his arms.

"Thanks," he mumbled quietly.

"Er…are you okay?" she asked stupidly and kicked herself at the words.

"No…" he whispered. She inched closer.

"Did…did they…?" She wasn't sure what to ask and didn't really want to contemplate the wrong answer: she didn't have the words to offer compassion if he had been so horribly abused. So she exhaled in utter relief at the little, shamed shake of the head.

"Almost…but no…" he murmured hoarsely. "You-you arrived j-just in time. Th-thanks," he added dully. His voice was really hoarse and she wondered how long he had been screaming for before she arrived. She cast around for some clothes and located his tunic, cast carelessly by the door. His leggings and boots were the other side of the shed. She grasped the tunic and lifted it, automatically shaking it out and realising how small it looked. It always appeared baggy on the boy. She draped it gently over his scored body and he gave a slight sigh of relief.

"I need to get you out of here," she said quietly. He shook his head.

"I don't want to see anyone," he said more clearly and slowly lifted his head. She could see fresh welts on his face and a freshly split lip. His face was soaked with tears and his eyes were red and bloodshot from weeping. She gently rested her arm on his shoulder.

"Oh, Hiccup," she whispered. He jerked his head slightly and inspected her suddenly.

"Why are you here?" he suddenly asked suspiciously. She started and then sighed.

"I came to apologise," she admitted. He frowned and slowly eased to a very stiff sitting position.

"For-for what?" His tone was suspicious, his hoarse voice and wary green eyes unlike the usual optimistic boy she recognised.

"For the morning," she said. "I blamed you for the mishap in Dragon Training when it wasn't your fault. I was cruel to you when it wasn't fair. I'm sorry." He stared at her and for a long moment she thought he would throw her apology back in her face. Then he nodded.

"Thanks," he said defeatedly. "It doesn't take the words back, by the way. It just means you feel better about yourself." She bristled.

"I didn't have to apologise!" she snapped. He sighed.

"No, you didn't," he admitted. "But being shouted at and humiliated in front of the entire class is something you can't take back, Astrid."

"Oh, come on…" she began but he suddenly stiffened up.

"No!" he said sharply in a tone she'd never heard before. "You're Astrid Hofferson. You're the prettiest girl on Berk, the best warrior and definitely the best Viking of our generation. You never have anyone criticise you and call you out. I'm Hiccup the Useless, screw-up extraordinaire. I'm the whipping boy for the entire island or hadn't you worked that out by now? Anything goes wrong? Must be Useless's fault! Rain, hail, dragon attack, eel pox, bad catch…you'd be surprised how much I seem to be responsible for! And I'm either screamed at in front of the village…or torn to pieces by my own father…or beaten up and abused by Snotlout and his friends. and every time… _every time_ …someone tears me off a strip, it hurts, Astrid! It hurts so much that no matter what I do or what I try, I will never be liked or accepted or even tolerated by my father. I will never be good enough. And sometimes, when someone I think is a bit better than the others attacks me, it hurts even more. And that happened this morning when you tore into me!"

She stared at him, a retort on her lips criticising him for having a thin skin when his words registered. Tears were streaking his bruised cheeks and he was shaking, really shaking, with sobs. How could she, used to the warmth and love of her family, understand the cold and friendless life he lived, brutalised by his family, shunned by his village, hated by his father. And he implied…he implied…that she meant more to him…because her attack had hurt him so much more. She felt sick.

"I…I never knew…" she whispered. He swallowed and tried to swipe the tears from his face with his arm which was wholly unsuccessful.

"Why would you even look at me?" he whispered. "I'm useless, after all…" She grasped his shoulders and gently forced him to look at her.

"You are NOT Useless!" she told him firmly. "Hiccup-don't ever believe them. I know you're NOT Useless. You made my axe, didn't you?" There was a startled glance and then a look of guilt in his green gaze before he stared at the floor. He gave a slight nod. "It's the best axe on Berk by a mile. And my Dad says you service all our weapons." He nodded again.

"I'm cheap," he muttered self-consciously. "And no one will own to allowing me to touch their weapons in case they're cursed or something."

"Stop that!" she snapped angrily. "You're not bad luck. You just have it." He lifted his green gaze and she read his utter despondency in the shimmering depths. He hitched the side of his mouth up in a humourless smile.

"Yeah-dead mother, father who hates me, family that abuses me, tribe that would rather I got eaten by a dragon…what's not to love?" Astrid swatted his shoulder lightly, not wanting to hurt him but to snap him out of his depression. He winced.

"You have people!" she insisted. He nailed her with a suddenly piercing glare.

" _WHO_?" he demanded. She paused and then looked calm.

"Gobber," she said. Hiccup looked away and his shoulders began to shake. She frowned and looked at him concerned. He was laughing, bitterly.

"Great," he said so quietly she almost couldn't hear. "Gobber. In a tribe where I am the Chief's son, where I have at least three close blood relatives, where all I have ever done is try to help, the only person I have who gives a damn for me is my crazy boss." He shook his head and she realised he was disappointed: he had expected-hoped-she would offer herself as a friend. And she felt guilty that she should have-but befriending Hiccup was social suicide. She swallowed self-consciously.

"I-I wanted to thank you for my axe," she blurted out suddenly, trying to break the awkward silence. "I-I just found out…" She fidgeted as he slowly turned to face her.

"You're welcome," he said tonelessly. She frowned.

"I-I just wondered…why?" she asked him softly. He stared at her and his battered face was sad.

"I made you the axe because you needed one and I thought…I thought you were my friend," he said quietly. "I was right about one of those. About my usual hit rate." He turned away from her and dragged the tunic over his head, groaning as he pulled on his wounds. She watched as he crawled to grab his leggings and boots and she rose to her feet.

"I-I'll leave you then…" she said, grasping her axe. He nodded, his cheeks flaming with embarrassment.

"I'd be grateful if you don't say anything," he asked her softly. "I guess Snotlout won't because what he did-wanted to do-would only make my life worse." She nodded brightly.

"Of course," she said clearly. "I'll see you in class tomorrow!" He nodded, staring at the floor.

"I'll be there," he admitted then lifted his head. "And Astrid-thanks. I really mean it." She smiled.

"See ya!" she called and ran down the hill. Weary, in pain and ashamed, he dragged the rest of his clothes on and painfully limped down the hill, making sure that he collected food from the Great Hall and supplies for their store. He also collected a few fresh fish and an old shield. He had a crazy idea.


	7. Chapter Seven

**Seven.**

He arrived at the cove later in the afternoon, having make his slow and painful way through the forest. He had heard Astrid practising and he had almost gone to speak to her, but he knew the score: she couldn't even be seen to talk to him. He was a pariah, almost a Outcast. He paused and rested a hand on the cool rock of the cove and winced. Unbidden, memories flooded through his mind, sights and sounds overwhelming the quiet pine-filled afternoon.

 

_*Flashback*_

"Help! HELP!"

The small shape, cornered. The hiss of the attackers, the snikt sound as their spines flicked up, ready to impale their prey.

No one else nearby. Olaf Hofferson glanced down, his face horrified but too far away to be of use. But he was the only one within range, the only one who could make a difference.

The cold weight of the unfinished sword in his sweating hands, the trembling of fear making his muscles weak and his throat dry.

The scream that erupted from his throat as he ran forward, swinging wildly. The shrieking cries as they scattered and let him race through. His small hand finding a smaller one. Scared grey eyes looking up at him in miraculous relief. His own voice, suddenly steady as he raised the too-heavy sword against the regrouping Nadders.

"RUN!" And he had charged them. allowing his young companion to race to safety. The tail, slashing by, cutting his arm. The crowding of huge, scaly bodies as they cornered him. The sword falling. His scream of fear as they prepared to kill him.

The roar of the Chief, his huge presence filling the world. The screams of dragons, crunch of blows, shattering cries of pain, zipping sounds of spines flying.

So much blood. The thud of the huge body falling. The receding shrieks of the monsters.

"DAD! DAD! Please…I'm so sorry…"

Men surrounding him, dragging him away.

"What happened?"

"Useless was out again. The Chief had to save him-and got taken down by Nadders!"

Fighting, fighting to get back to the still body. The blood still pooling under the bulky shape, the beard stained with it.

"DAD!"

"You did this, you little bastard! You killed him!"

"DAD!"

"And you have to pay!"

"Please…no…I…I…"

The fists, pounding him with no mercy. Bones cracking, flesh tearing, pain, pain everywhere. His vision hazing red. His breath suddenly almost impossible. The floor cradling his broken shape. Fists, boots still coming, the hits now sounding softer as they pounded into broken, bloody flesh. Lights fading.

Dad…I'm sorry…I couldn't let him die…

"STOP!"

Gobber! Gods, someone still cared?

No one cared. It would be better if they let him go.

"Ye canna kill him, Spitelout! He's the Heir! If Stoick…we can't lose them both in one day!"

A final punch, almost crushing the last shreds of consciousness from him. Then no more. Pain, pain, pain…but no blissful oblivion. He had to keep living, though he could feel the trickle of Nadder venom in his system. He had to endure the shame.

"Dad…" Was this his voice, that broken, scratchy whisper? He almost couldn't breathe but he lifted his blood-smeared vision to see his father borne away. "Dad…" He stretched out a hand, certainly broken, the hot pain familiar but almost overwhelming.

"Help…."

But for him, no one came…

_*End Flashback*_

 

He blinked, his face wet with tears. The one time he had done something his father should have been proud of, he almost cost them both their lives. His father at the spines of the Nadders-and Hiccup at the fists of his own Uncle and cousin. His long fingers unconsciously slid across his cheek, where the bone had been broken and then caressed the ribs they had snapped. He was trembling at the memory. The had already hated him then: now, it was unbearable. His disinheritance had been the final straw, removing the last protection his birth afforded him. Since his recovery and realisation of his permanent disability, his father had encouraged his continual punishment as well. There was nothing left for him in Berk really: he knew that after today, Snotlout would find a way to finish what he started. His cousin would rape him and when he became Chief, Hiccup would be his bitch. He could just about endure physical and emotional abuse but sexual abuse as well? Death was suddenly looking more appetising as a prospect.

He cuffed the tears from his face. Yeah, his life was a big fat slice of Hel and absolutely no one cared about him. He had hoped…hoped that Astrid would admit that she didn't hate him and would actually offer him friendship. But that was stupid and he almost laughed at himself: who would want to befriend Useless? Who would risk being shunned just to offer the lonely, beaten boy a molecule of kindness and hope?

He shook his head. No one, of course. And that was why he was here, in the middle of the forest, approaching the most feared dragon in the world with just a shield and a fish . Because if it all went horribly wrong, no one would even miss him. He took a shuddering breath to calm himself and turned back to the cove. He lifted the shield and gripped the salmon carefully by the gills. He peered through the crack and couldn't see the dragon but that was no guarantee: the vision was restricted. So he tossed the salmon through and waited.

Nothing. He peered through cautiously and then advanced, the shield carefully ahead of him. It promptly stuck in the narrow space. He pulled it back but it was well and truly lodged. So he ducked underneath and tried to drag it from the other side but it was totally wedged.

_Figures_ , he thought bitterly. So he shrugged and lifted the salmon, looking around cautiously for the dragon. But there was no sign.

The dragon, though, was watching him from the top of a large boulder, his sleek body crouched and tail flicking like a giant cat. He silently pounced down and Hiccup saw him late, freezing and cringing before gathering his wits and holding up the fish with a shaking hand. The dragon narrowed his eyes, the pupils slit-like, before carefully prowling at him-and then freezing with a growl. Hiccup followed his eyes and saw his belt-knife. The same knife he had threatened to kill the dragon with.

Making a decision that he wanted the dragon to trust him, he lifted the knife to a growl from the dragon and tossed it aside. The low growl continued until he kicked it further away. Then the dragon suddenly sat down, relaxing. His pupils widened and his wide green eyes suddenly looked curious. Hiccup offered him the fish and the dragon inched almost within range, opening a wide, gummy smile. Hiccup frowned.

"Toothless?" he murmured. "I could have sworn you…" Then retractable teeth snapped down and the dragon snatched the fish from Hiccup's hand, almost taking the boy's fingers as well. He watched, wide-eyed as the dragon polished off the large salmon in three hungry bites. He swallowed the fish almost whole, licked his lips and eyed Hiccup calculatingly. The boy suddenly paled. "Oh no…" he murmured as the dragon began to advance on him. He stumbled backwards, tripped over his feet and crawled back until he was pressed against the boulder, terrified.

"No…no! I-I don't have any more!" he begged, his eyes wide and pleading. The dragon inspected the shaking boy and paused. He could hear the racing of the boy's heart, the rapid panting, terrified breaths and smell the fear on him. There was something else… Blood. The boy was hurt. The dragon was very hungry, trapped in the cove where he couldn't fish easily but he didn't eat human flesh. And this boy had come back, bringing food. He had cast his weapon aside. He knew the dragon could pin him down and effortlessly kill him. And yet he had still come. He was intriguing.

_He needed to learn more._

Hiccup watched the dragon's eyes roll back in his head and his throat begin to convulse as the dragon suddenly regurgitated half a fish straight into his lap. "Eurgh!" Hiccup exclaimed as the dragon sat back on his back legs and looked down knowingly on the boy. Hiccup stared up then at the half-fish that the dragon kept looking at meaningfully. Hiccup placed down and he frowned in sudden horrible realisation.

"What? Really? Come on!" he protested but the dragon narrowed its eyes slightly. Hiccup felt his stomach lurch. He really wanted to know more about the dragon but to eat something the dragon had just vomited up… He sighed and lifted the slimy offering. Swallowing firmly, he took a small bite of the raw, slimy flesh. And then he paused. He hoped it was enough.

The Night Fury inspected him for a long moment, seeing his intent. Pointedly, the dragon swallowed. Hiccup sagged, defeated. He knew what he had to do and after a couple of attempts, he managed to swallow the mouthful without throwing up. Weakly, he forced a smile onto his battered face. The dragon tilted his head, his eyes focussing hard on the expression, then slowly…amazingly..his lips twisted and moved into a very weird and gummy approximation of a smile.

Hiccup felt his heart suddenly lurch. This was far more amazing than anything he had ever experienced and almost made his horrible life in the village worthwhile. The dragon was copying him, knowing that the boy could read some of his body language. It was trying to communicate with him! he laid the fish down, utterly entranced, then rose slowly and walked towards the smiling dragon. His hand was outstretched and his eyes locked on the dragon. But as he got within touching range, the dragon growled, his teeth snapped down and he whipped away, gliding across the little lake and shaking his head as he landed with a crash. He fired a patch of earth and curled up.

He suddenly looked up to see the boy sitting cross-legged a few yards away. The boy gave a little wave and tried to look unthreatening-which he was, with his skinny, bony little frame. But Toothless wanted to be alone and flicked his tail round with his missing fin, shielding his face. Hiccup scooched closer and reached out his hand to timidly touch the dragon's skin. But as he was an inch away, the dragon flicked his tail aside and glared angrily at the boy. Hiccup snatched his hand back and backed away, realising the dragon didn't want him near. He backed away and went to the far side of the cove, sitting alone on a small rock. The dragon bounded up and hung himself from a large tree root by his powerful tail, rolled up like a giant black leather cigar.

The sun was setting, the sky warming with rosy pink over head. The temperature was starting to drop but Hiccup remained in the cove. His little, aching shape was hunched as he scratched a drawing in the ground. He had nothing to get back for and was worried that if he got back much before the scheduled class debrief-this time on the lower defences-Snotlout would catch him. He didn't dare contemplate what the larger boy would do to him. So sitting alone in the cove, with only the deadliest dragon known for company, he scratched a drawing of the Night Fury. He was an excellent artist and a keen observer, so he captured the dragon's eyes, the distinctive head shape, the little ear-flaps and then he stiffened.

It was behind him, peering down at the unmistakeable image of the Night Fury, skilfully drawn on the ground. Suddenly, it waddled away on its back legs and he heard a ripping noise. The dragon had wrenched a whole sapling out of the ground and was dragging it across the ground around Hiccup in the same way the boy used the stick. A whirling, abstract pattern emerged and the dragon seemed very focussed on its drawing. Hiccup stood and glanced around as the dragon finally finished and looked at him, patiently.

The boy couldn't see what he had drawn and it made no sense-but maybe he was looking from the wrong angle? He lifted his foot and made to walk towards the dragon but it growled. He froze. He made to step again and it growled again. Finally he looked down: he was about to stand on one of the dragon's carefully drawn lines. Looking at the dragon, he lowered his foot again and was rewarded by a growl. So he moved his foot and made to put it down by the line, not on it.

Silence. The dragon approved.

Emboldened, Hiccup began to walk across the drawing, his small booted feet placed with care as he danced slowly around the lines until he finally reached the edge. He still couldn't make out what the dragon had drawn but it suddenly didn't matter as he felt a huff of warm air on his head. He froze, ducked his neck slightly and peered up. The dragon was standing right by him. Looking up, he lifted his hand and the dragon gave a sharp look through narrowed eyes but didn't growl.

And then it struck him. He was looking the dragon directly in the eyes. He knew from his reading that in certain animals like wolves and wildcats, direct eye contact was a challenge, an aggressive gesture. The dragon could kill him any time-and it chose not to. He guessed-hoped, prayed-that it didn't mean him any harm. So he was willing to take a chance, to show he wasn't meaning it any harm either. He averted his eyes, bowed his head in a submissive, passive gesture, then slowly extended his right hand. And then waited.

The dragon peered at him for a moment. The boy wasn't trembling, wasn't smelling of fear: he was calm and assured, his heartbeat a little fast but radiating serenity. So he closed his eyes and pressed his muzzle against the boy's cold hand.

Hiccup's eyes snapped open in shock as he felt the touch. His heart sang with joy. But he ducked his head again, not wanting to spook the dragon. Finally, he lifted his head and gently inspected the dragon's face. The tiny scales in an intricate pattern, the blunt nose, the four little ear-flaps in each side, the amazing warmth in the skin that was at odds with everything he had read about reptiles… He took a shuddering breath. And then the dragon's eyes opened and stared into his own green gaze. The dragon shook his head, pulled away and whisked away across the cove, leaving Hiccup standing mesmerised, his hand tingling from the magical touch.

Had he just touched a _Night Fury?_  Had he communicated with a dragon?

Why did it feel so much better than anything that had happened to him in the last five years?


	8. Chapter Eight

**Eight.**

Reluctantly, he had headed back as it got dark. He wasn't afraid of the Night Fury as such, but there were other, less friendly creatures that inhabited Berk and he wasn't much of a fighter-or an especially fast runner. In his heart of hearts, he would have loved to skip the meeting, avoid Snotlout and Tuffnut-especially after what they had tried to do to him-and there mere thought made his chest tighten and hands tremble-but he was more scared that his father would learn that he had missed any part of training and he would have failed his father once more. No matter how vile and evil Snotlout was, his fear of failing his father was worse. In his heart, he knew this was his absolutely definitely totally final chance at winning his father's love. If he failed Dragon Training, he knew his father would disown him once and for all. So he had made the class debrief and had sat with them as they tore his performance to pieces and dumped a torrent of abuse on his skinny shoulders once more. He sighed: it was nothing he hadn't expected but it still hurt.

And yet, not quite so much because he had other things to fill his mind. Like the Night Fury. So when they had finished congratulating Astrid and sneering at him, Gobber had handed out the food and begun telling his favourite story: how he had lost his limbs. Hiccup tuned out, having heard it multiple times during his time as the blacksmith's apprentice. He had snagged a small fish rather than the juicy legs of chicken the rest were munching and was toasting it listlessly. The raw fish wasn't sitting well on his stomach.

Astrid was sitting next to him, which was a miracle in itself. Usually, she sat immediately next to the teacher, paying keen attention but she had directed the class up onto the catapult platform and ensured that she positioned herself between Hiccup-right on the edge, his usual place-and Snotlout and the twins, his tormentors. Admittedly, she wasn't looking at him, speaking to him or giving any indication she knew he was alive, but he knew she had sat there for a reason and he still felt a twinge of gratitude. She had rescued him and he could never thank her enough for that.

Suddenly, he caught Gobber's words. "It's the wings and tails you want. Remember-a downed dragon is a _dead_  dragon!"

And then it clicked. The tail damage had been devastating for the Night Fury. The fastest, sleekest dragon had been downed: no wonder it had been so angry at him. But it had not killed him: it had given him a chance, had offered him its trust. Despite everything that he had done, _it had trusted him_. His glance swung back to Gobber with his prosthetic hand and leg. He was getting a crazy idea. So while the rest of the class listened to the blacksmith's tale, he raced down the steps and headed for the forge, unaware that Astrid was staring after him. She wondered what he was doing.

oOo

He wasn't sure himself, but as he scrambled into the little backroom that had been his little workshop for so many years, he lit the candle and grabbed his journal. He peered at the image of the tail he had drawn and he frowned. The tail was supported by four internal struts, like the fins of a fish, with membrane stretched across them. He could use canvas or leather…and the struts would obviously be fine iron rods. But they would need to be hinged against something to allow the tail to flip open and close as the real tail did…maybe a hinged control rod with a sturdy but low friction joint…

He drew the design, making a fast calculation about size. His eye was pretty accurate from his work smithing and he cast around the forge for the materials he needed. There was plenty of spare iron around for the rods and he could take the studs from a shield for the bolts… He pulled his apron on, fired up the forge and set to work. This was going to be a late night.

In fact, he finished just after dawn, his head buzzing with weariness but his heart pounding with a sudden sense of achievement and pride. He had created something amazing…and completely unique. No one else had ever even attempted what he had achieved. With a smile, he snapped the prosthetic fin closed, grabbed his fur vest and tidied the forge, then headed down to the docks. The fishermen were busy so he was able to snaffle an entire basket of fish and staggered under the weight of the generous breakfast all the way back to the cove.

He was panting with exertion, his stomach growing from another missed breakfast, as he hit the floor of the cove, glad to get the basket off his shoulder. The pressure on his scored back was still painful. He wondered idly, as he cast around for the dragon, how long the wounds should take to heal. He had never been beaten before so he really had nothing to compare it against. But his back still stung and any stretching still hurt. The Night Fury ambled forward and Hiccup gave a bright smile, dumping the basket on the floor and kicking it over.

"Morning, Toothless!" he called cheerily. It had been the first real word he had said to the dragon and somehow, it suited. He grinned. "I hope you're hungry. We've got…let me see…some salmon, some Icelandic cod…and a whole smoked eel!" He pulled a face. "Gross," he added at the sight and smell of all the raw fish. Toothless sniffed the pile of fish then gave a roar and backed away, looking distressed. Hiccup frowned and realised the dragon was recoiling from the eel. He lifted it up. Immediately, Toothless roared again and scrabbled back. Hiccup raised a hand soothingly. "Easy, easy!" he soothed as he fished out the offending article and tossed it aside. "I don't really like eel either!"

Once the eel was out of the picture. Toothless hungrily inched forward and stuffed his head into the basket, beginning to gulp down the breakfast. Hiccup calmly grasped his prototype tail and walked unthreateningly towards the maimed tail that was flicking side to side. "Don't worry, don't mind me," he muttered gently, his eyes fixed on the tail. He had fitted the tail with sturdy leather straps to attach it to the real thing and he planned to strap it on as soon as he could while Toothless was distracted, but the tail kept flicking and a quick glance showed that almost all the fish was gone. In fact, Toothless had stuck his head all the way onto he basket to get the last fish out.

Frustrated, Hiccup plonked his small weight onto the tail to pin it down and rapidly tightened the straps, evening them up and inspecting his creation. He pulled the canvas fin open and gave a small nod. "It's not too bad: it works…" he said thoughtfully, unaware of the pair of huge bat-like wings opening silently and inexorably behind him. Toothless was completely aware of the new weight on his tail and a wicked look appeared on his face as he crouched down, bunched his muscles and flung himself into the air.

Hiccup gave a loud scream, still sitting on Toothless's tail. He clutched on for dear life as Toothless rose with every powerful beat of his wings but he immediately began to sag to the right and Hiccup saw that the tail had collapsed: he had built the tail but there was nothing to hold it open. The pressure of the wind had immediately collapsed it. And they were heading straight for the rocky wall of the cove. He reached back, winding his legs round the tail and wrenched the tail open.

They immediately levelled out and Toothless turned his head up, climbing ferociously into the sky. Hiccup, holding the tail open, hung on desperately, the jerking flight almost dislodging him. But they were flying and he had never felt anything so wild or scary or exhilarating! But they were heading straight up and Hiccup didn't trust the dragon that much. So he flipped the tail to one side and directed the pair back down into the cove. They dipped down and skimmed the little lake at astonishing speed. Hiccup whooped in delight, the utter exultation of his ride overwhelming him and he didn't notice Toothless narrowing his eyes and noticing the skinny boy still clinging to his tail. With a contemptuous flick, the dragon tossed him aside and he splashed down hard into the lake. Toothless banked up but the tail prosthesis instantly collapsed and the dragon splashed down even harder than the boy in the lake.

Hiccup leapt into the air: soaked, breathless and sore but not bothered by any of these. _He had flown!_  His prosthesis had worked! _By Odin, IT HAD WORKED!_  Admittedly, not perfectly but finally, he had something to work with. And the amazing sense of achievement that he had conceived, built and tested a device that hadn't been completely useless. He gave an utterly joyous laugh as the dragon shook itself angrily and began to trudge out of the lake.


	9. Chapter Nine

**Nine.**

He had almost dried out by the time he arrived at the arena, though Snotlout made a point of slapping him cheerily across the back several times. He winced at each hard swat and backed away, his welts stinging.

"Can't bring yourself to be sociable, Useless?" he sneered, gripping the boy's butt hard and causing him to yip painfully.

"Get off…" Hiccup said through gritted teeth, earning himself a smack across the rear, then a harder slap across his bruised face. The blow echoed round the arena and Hiccup staggered back, his hand clutched to his cheek. His green eyes were resigned but still afraid.

"Don't you _dare_  to order me what to do, Useless!" Snotlout hissed, his fist clenched tightly. Hiccup whimpered and backed away shaking his head.

"Please, 'Lout," he begged. His green eyes flicked up, pleading with his classmates for any sort of help. Astrid met his gaze and looked uncomfortable, her grasp tightening on her axe-but she said nothing. Hiccup felt his throat tighten with a stab of betrayal but another voice spoke up.

"You can mess around on yer own time!" Gobber announced dryly. "Hiccup, stand up properly: Snotlout, get out of there! This exercise is all about teamwork. All of you, get a bucket of water. You will be performing this exercise in pairs!" Wincing, Hiccup glanced up at Gobber and swallowed. He was grateful for his boss's intervention though shamed that he had needed it. And saddened that no one had stepped in to help him. But all he was thinking, right now was _please not Snotlout, please not Snotlout..._

"Astrid-you're with Ruffnut!" The girls nodded. "Snotlout-you are with Tuffnut." Figured: both of Hiccup's bullies together. That left…"Fishlegs, Hiccup-you're together." Hiccup gave a sigh and thanked Thor that Gobber had a heart. He had been put with the best possible option: Fishlegs who never really bullied him and awkwardly tried to avoid any involvement in Hiccup-baiting. Hiccup moved timidly towards his partner and grabbed two heavy buckets, handing one to Fishlegs.

"Hi," he murmured. Fishlegs gave him a little nod. The two had been good friends when they were younger, for both were clever and nerdy but as Hiccup's bullying had worsened and Fishlegs had hit his amazing growth spurt, the two had drifted apart. Fishlegs had gone from a skinny, uncoordinated nerd to a huge, husky blonde boy, the tallest and largest of their peer group. He was still rather gentle, nerdy and quiet but his size won him respect and as he had been accepted, he had left Hiccup behind. The smaller boy had watched his friend abandon him for the cool kids and had tried not to feel resentment because he could understand Fishlegs' desire to be accepted and popular. But all the same, he missed having anyone and the day that Fishlegs had shouted at the smaller boy to stop following him around or pestering him had been one Hiccup didn't like remembering. It had been another day another chunk of his heart had been ripped out, a day he had run home and sobbed himself to sleep, knowing no one would come looking for him. After that day, he really had no friends.

"Today is all about Teamwork!" Gobber repeated from the stands, opening a cage and watching as the arena began to fill with smoke. "A wet dragon head cannot ignite its flames. The Hideous Zippleback is tricky: one head releases an explosive gas and the other ignites it!"

The three teams lost sight of each other in the fog. Hiccup stuck close to Fishlegs. "Two heads, venom for pre-digestion…" the larger boy was muttering. Hiccup lost his cool.

"Will you stop that!" he hissed. He wasn't afraid of Fishlegs, just disappointed in him for abandoning him. And he didn't didn't need Fishlegs spooking him with unpleasant things he didn't need to know about but more, he needed to listen. In the foggy gloom, sound was the only way he could tell what was going on-and where the dragon was. His head gently turned around as he listened: he could hear Tuffnut and Snotlout talking. Snotlout was boasting, of course but neither was paying any attention-until Tuffnut saw something and the two boys launched their buckets of water at the shadowy shapes emerging from the gloom. There was a chorus of shouts from the girls, who had been soaked.

"Hey!" Ruffnut shouted. "It's us!"

"Your butts are getting bigger!" Tuffnut told his twin. She threw her water over him then whacked him with her bucket.

"Not that there's anything wrong with a dragonesque figure…" Snotlout said urgently at the scowling Astrid. Even he knew insulting a girl's butt wasn't the way to getting a date! Suddenly, Tuffnut gave a scream as he was dragged away into the gloom. Astrid tensed.

"Watch out…" she murmured and Hiccup could hear her tension in her voice. He could imagine the slight furrow of her brow as she readied her bucket, her lithe form tense. Tuffnut erupted from the gas and sped past them towards the exit, clutching his butt.

"Oh, I am hurt, I am very much hurt!" he shouted as he raced by, not looking particularly injured. A dragon's tail swiped Ruff and Astrid off their feet, spilling Astrid's bucket of water. Unarmed, the girls scrambled away, leaving Fishlegs and Hiccup to face the dragon.

"Chances of survival dwindling into single digits now…" the larger boy moaned. Hiccup cast him a jaundiced glare as he tightened his grip on his bucket. Out of the gloom, a green head appeared on a sinuous, mottled neck, the reddish eyes and horn on the nose making the dragon appear very sinister. Fishlegs gave a little scream and ran forward, splashing the water all over the head. The dragon opened its mouth and a noxious green gas began billowing out. Fishlegs gave a little squeak.

"Oh-wrong head!" he said and backed away, leaving Hiccup exposed and alone. The boy stared up as the second head weaved out of the gloom and he saw sparks begin to crackle around the teeth. He threw the bucket as hard as he could but the water didn't even come close. He sagged as the second head rose high above him.

"Oh, come on!" he protested miserably. The dragon rose over him and he stared at it. There was no point running so he flipped open his vest as he heard Gobber scream at him in worry. But the Zippleback was backing away. Hiccup pushed his hands at it again, gently driving it back without harming the dragon.

"Get back. BACK!" he said clearly, advancing. The dragon scuttled back, cowed. Hiccup kept his back to the rest of the class, making sure they couldn't see the rejected eel that he had brought to the arena reckoning-rightly, it seemed-that if a starving Toothess wouldn't go anywhere near the eel, then the lesser dragons certainly wouldn't. And in Hiccup's mind, every other dragon was a 'lesser' dragon. The Zippleback had almost backed straight into the pen and Hiccup thoughtfully tossed the eel in after it to hold it. He silently promised to go and retrieve the fish later as he pushed the pen doors closed and dropped the bar into place. He looked up at the astonished class.

Snotlout's jaw was hanging open, Gobber had dropped his bucket and the rest were staring wildly at him as if he had grown a second head.

"Is that it?" he asked, wiping his slimy hand on his fur vest. "Because if it is, I've got things to…yep…" he rambled and then turned and left. He knew Snotlout was too astonished to catch him and bully him and no one else would follow him either. And he had an idea that was suddenly nagging at his exhausted brain.

His heart was singing and he felt a foot taller. Not so Useless, am I-Snotlout? he thought suddenly. And thank you, Toothless. If you hadn't rejected that eel, I would have been eaten! He walked up the hill, his head up for once with pride and happiness and headed home. He needed some food, a wash and a rest because he reckoned he had a long night ahead of him.

He woke around dusk, having had a bowl of mutton soup and a large hunk of fresh bread. His wash had got rid of most of the eel smell and cleaned his wounds and somehow, after a feed, a wash and a rest, he almost felt human. He got up, changed into this oldest and most patched tunic and dumped the other two in a bucket with warm water and soap. With a sigh, he scrubbed them and his other leggings, rinsing the dirt and blood out and then hanging them to dry in front of the fire. He helped himself to another bowl of mutton broth and a mug of watered ale and sat, staring at his father's chair. His father would have been proud of him today-which was typical. The one time he had apparently done something right, his father was leagues away, probably facing death.

He suddenly stopped chewing. Sure, he had defeated the dragon but he hadn't done it properly. It had been a trick, a _cheat_. He had used the dragon's fear of eels rather than beating it over the head or dousing the flames in its second head: he didn't deserve any plaudits. His shoulders sagged. He was still Useless. He rested his head in his hands. Worse, he had not kept his bargain: he was lying. He forced himself to finish his soup: his stomach had been hurting from hunger and he had been abusing his body by long nights and trips into the forest.

He wandered warily down the hill to the forge. Gobber had locked up but Hiccup went to his backroom and this time, he began drawing his next project. He located metal, leather and heavy duty thread and then began working on building a saddle. He couldn't fly hanging onto Toothless's tail and he needed to find some way to keep the artificial fin open. He slept in the backroom after he finished and was up at dawn, grabbing more fish and going down to meet Toothless. Somehow, seeing the dragon was the high point of his day.

Toothless, however, was less than enthusiastic about the elegant saddle and Hiccup had to chase him all over the cove and give Toothless every fish he had just to get the Night Fury to wear the thing. But it was worth it when Hiccup sat on the saddle, high on the dragon's short but powerful neck, his knees firm against the dragon's neck. HIs right hand was locked on the saddle while the left was hanging onto the rope he had attached to the tail fin and keep it open. They soared up a little more efficiently but as they banked over the lake, he flew from the saddle and landed hard in the lake, the water slamming the wind from him. Toothless had crashed and sulked at him and the skinny teen wearily trudged back to class.

Gobber's lesson had been a little more theoretical this time with some weapons work which had proved the most effective way of humiliating Hiccup. He was small and clumsy anyway but pairing the boy with Snotlout in any sort of combat was a really good way of ensure he ended even more battered and unhappy than usual. Hiccup had been slammed flat onto his back five times and his older cousin had cruelly kicked the helpless boy repeatedly until Gobber noticed from breaking up the twins, who were creating a diversion. Snotlout stepped back with a nasty smile as the others peered at the shivering form lying at their feet.

Curled sobbing on the floor of the arena, blood leaking from his split lip and cradling cracked ribs and a savagely beaten body, Hiccup didn't even move when the blacksmith shouted at him to get up. He just lay still, his eyes screwed shut and stray tears leaking down his battered face. Gobber limped forward, casting a dirty look at the larger boy and then reaching down and jerking Hiccup to his feet. The boy gave a low, pained cry as his ribs were jarred and he stood, listing, his head down and messy auburn hair half-covering his battered face. He was staring at the ground ferociously, trying to hide his misery.

"Eh, lad…you need to get home," the blacksmith said, inspecting his apprentice for a very few seconds before seeing that the boy had been beaten badly under his very nose.

"I-I'm sorry, Gobber," Hiccup murmured painfully. "'snot your fault…" Gobber ruffled the messy hair gently and the boy flicked his pained emerald gaze up. His misery was too bright, too obvious to miss. Gobber gave him a push towards the gate and all eyes watched the bowed little shape limp painfully out of sight. Astrid stared after him and her eyes locked on Snotlout. Something would have to be done: his bullying was going to get out of hand.


	10. Chapter Ten

**Ten.**

Hiccup didn't go home, his hitching breaths and dizzy head meaning he felt too ill to walk all the way up the hill. So he reached the forge and stumbled into the little backroom, his own little workroom and scrabbled for the satchel he had stowed there with a small pot of ointments and bandages. He found his last spare tunic-an old one with patched elbows-wiped his face and slathered the ointment on his bruised and battered chest before spreading the blanket on the floor and curling up like a small animal. He wished with all his heart that he was in the cove with Toothless or, better, that he was somewhere other than Berk.

The sounds of Gobber crashing around the forge jolted him from his sleep some hours later and he lifted his buzzing head and gave a groan. The noises stopped and the blacksmith poked his head into the little workroom, seeing the bleary shape of the boy lift his battered head. Gobber sighed and crouched down by him. "Can't even follow a simple order, eh?" he muttered. Hiccup gave a pained wince as he sat up and shook his head.

"Wouldn't make it home," he murmured. "Just needed to rest…" He blinked slowly and tried to clear his head. "Sorry, Gobber." His tone was weary. Then he took a shuddering breath and scrambled to his feet. "I owe you some work in the forge," he said with quiet determination. The smith patted him gently-which nearly knocked the slight boy to the floor-then grinned, his stone prosthetic tooth gleaming dully.

"Not saying I couldnae use a hand…" he quipped, waving his hook. "Have you eaten?" Hiccup shook his head wildly.

"But I don't think I…" he began, visualising Snotlout pouring stew over his head. Gobber patted him again.

"I'll bring something back," he reassured his apprentice as he ambled up the hill. Hiccup stared after him and a slight smile tilted his lips. He guessed he'd have an hour to work on upgrading the saddle and then he could actually do some work to earn off the materials he had stolen from Gobber. He paused and winced. _Stole_. It was an ugly word but accurately described what he had done.

And then he stared up at the village. They had stolen as well: stolen his childhood, his innocence, his sense of safety, his father's love, any hope of acceptance, his birthright. When he was younger, his father had loved him, he had enjoyed friends, he felt he belonged. Until they took it. And they never even let him see him when he begged to see his dying father. They just beat and punched him until his vision, his life contracted into red and white and pain and utter darkness…

He turned and ducked under the table, dragging out the saddle and peering at it. He needed some way to prevent himself just falling off. Safety lines…a harness…a seat belt! He cast around the fire, visualising the end result without even having to draw the plans. This was just too simple! All he needed was a belt with straps and hooks for attachment to the saddle. Of course, if he could prove the concept, he would need a much more secure riding vest with a better harness but for the moment, all he needed was a belt…and a pretty small one if it had to be tight around his narrow waist. He shrugged. He was a toothpick: everything about him was narrow!

He had fitted two hooks to the saddle and finished a wide, sturdy belt long before Gobber returned. In fact, the man returned to find him hammering a crooked sword straight, another already dug into the flames warming to red-hot pliability. The sound of even clangs belied the boy's battered condition, but Gobber could read the tension in his bruised face and the occasional hitch in his motion as he pulled cracked ribs or heavy bruising. Gently, the old blacksmith walked up to the boy and laid a bowl by him and a flask.

"Time for a break," he said awkwardly, eyeing his apprentice. "You need some meat on those bones, lad. Even if yer father is too bone-headed to notice, I can see yer wasting away!" Hiccup laid the hammer down, dipped the sword back into the fire and scooted onto the bench next to Gobber. His nose was already detecting the aroma of a rich chicken broth and his stomach was growling that it was rather interested in joining in the party. His mouth started watering, not wanting to feel left out. He clutched at his middle. It was sore from the kicking and felt extremely hollow. He snatched the lid off the bowl and began shovelling the food in. Gobber watched him with sorrowful eyes. Sometimes, he wondered if he was the only one who had any parental feelings for the boy. Hiccup was eating like a starving waif, his spoon scraping the base of the bowl before he looked up, astonished.

"Th-thanks," he said honestly. He gave his slightly crooked grin to his boss. "I-I needed that!" Gobber handed him the flask of watered down mead.

"Lad, yer my apprentice and my friend," he said seriously. "If yer need to talk, yer know yer can come to me, right?" Hiccup imagined himself having a conversation with the crazy blacksmith about his own insecurities…or Toothless…or Astrid… He forced a smile onto his face.

"Sure," he said cautiously.

"Any time, right?"

"Promise."

oOo

Toothless was less resistant to the saddle-as long as the salmon kept coming-but he was beginning to realise that the saddle signalled a flight and, to put it bluntly, Toothless lived to fly. He was the most accomplished flier of any dragon, perfectly designed for his purpose. So he was happy when Hiccup clambered into the saddle and they kicked off. It still wasn't easy and they crashed a lot but every time Hiccup improved the saddle or the tail, the result was better. Of course, there were hitches along the way. When they slammed down into a bank of rather unusual garlic grass, Hiccup had been thrown from he saddle, which prompted a redesign of the attachment clips. But when he looked back, Toothless was rolling and pawing like a kitten rolling in a catmint plant. He lifted the grass and sniffed: the scent was vaguely heady but he didn't notice his world melting or head spinning, though it clearly had that effect on the Night Fury.

Hiccup immediately renamed the plant 'dragon nip' and stuffed his pockets with the stuff, a crazy idea forming in his mind. If it rendered the most dangerous dragon known to a harmless drooling mess, then he was at least 90% sure it would disable the other training dragons. He shook his head. Gods! Now he was sounding like Fishlegs-even in his own head! He blinked and remounted the staggering dragon, persuading it to walk unsteadily away from the narcotic plant and onto the cliff edge where-hopefully-the cool breeze would clear his head. Both their heads.

Back in the cove, he hadn't wanted to leave, his fear of being cornered by Snotlout real. He had left the saddle with Toothless because he was going to head straight for class. In truth, he didn't care if he was late because ultimately, he didn't want to kill dragons. He unfastened his flying belt and folded it up. He needed it to fit to the leather flying vest he was working on…and then he hissed in pain. His bruises pulled and he gave a slight whimper.

Toothless was immediately there, the dragon popping up by him and inclining his head with a worried croon. His pupils were wide, almost vertically rectangular, in his wide green eyes, as he inspected his little friend. Then he nudged hard against the boy and Hiccup groaned. The dragon gave a rumble and nudged his nose under the loose tunic, sniffing the bruises and giving a disapproving growl.

"Get off, useless reptile," Hiccup muttered half-heartedly. "It's not like I've gotten beaten up on purpose. I just…I just…"

Toothless began to lick the boy over his bruises and cracked ribs, the wide sloppy tongue coating slimy saliva across the scrawny and beaten shape. Hiccup gave a groan.

"Yeagh! I-I hope that washes out," he murmured as the dragon craned his mobile neck round and nudged at the slowly healing wounds from his thrashing. He jerked away and yipped. "NO!" he whimpered. "Get away…" But the dragon began methodically licking all across his lacerated back and the boy made to pull away-until a low, menacing growl froze him in his tracks. One large paw, the claws unsheathed, rested just hard enough against his chest to freeze the lad in place. Breathless, Hiccup almost dared not breathe as the dragon finished licking all over him. Then abruptly, he pulled away, gave an approving croon and nuzzled against the boy's hand as if nothing had happened.

"What-what was that, bud?" Hiccup asked in a dazed voice. He had no clue what was happening-whether his dragon had just groomed him, made some gesture of friendship or prepared him for mating! He gave a weak smile: he sincerely hoped it wasn't the last one! Then he rose. "Gotta go. Training." And he pulled a face. The Night Fury curled up in the sun and gave a little croon: he knew Hiccup didn't like dragon training and he didn't really like Hiccup smelling of other dragons but he knew the boy was careful. He just hoped he would be safe.

In the arena, the Gronckle was back. This time, it was hovering around the course with an almost chugging sound. The bulbous dragon easily slammed all opposition aside-except Astrid, who was looking even more focussed. She hadn't forgiven him for defeating the Zippleback and scoring bonus marks for effortlessly doing it on his own. So far, he had scored the highest score in Dragon training and she didn't like that at all. This was their next dragon fight and she knew she needed to win to move back into the lead. So she closed on the Gronckle which was heading directly for Hiccup, the boy it had almost killed in the first class. Hiccup stared towards it, his shield clutched nervously in his chest. His green eyes were wide with anxiety-and also, a little curiosity. He dug his hand in his pocket and grasped a handful of grass-dragon nip-and as the dragon came within range, his rubbed it hard against the dragon's snout.

There was an aeons long pause as the dragon froze and his eyes widened. The pupils dilated wide and a low, rumbling croon began in the barrel-like body. Then it gave a little sigh and collapsed to the ground, landing on its side and purring as he continued to rub the soporific against its snout.

There was a whoop from Gobber and a scream of frustration from Astrid, who was closing with her axe. She stared into his slightly shocked eyes and he read something there that made his heart sink into his boots: anger and hatred. He had stolen her victory and she could not-would not-forgive him that. She advanced on him and he backed away. She jabbed her axe at his neck and he swallowed, looking frightened.

"How the Hel did you do that?" she screamed at him. His mouth worked uselessly, like a fish gasping on deck.

"I-I-I…j-j-just…sorta…" he stammered and she gave him a contemptuous look, screamed at him and turned her back on him, stalking away. He swallowed. He thought-hoped-they had a sort of understanding after she had come and rescued him. He knew she wouldn't ever become his friend again but he had dreamed she maybe would treat him more like a human being. He sagged as the dragon was dragged back to its pen and the arena cleared. That ship, apparently, had sailed.

They were all waiting for him after class and he stared up in fear. They were all clustered around him, all speaking at once and firing questions at him about his unprecedented victory. He backed up, his heart racing and breathing accelerating. He was only ever surrounded by them when they ambushed him, when they poured hatred into his ears and slammed their fists and boots into his skinny and helpless form. He swallowed, the band tightening round his chest. His intellect was telling him that they were genuinely interested but his instincts were reminding him that they could turn in an instant and then it would be pain and screaming and blood and more hours of lying curled in agony, cursing his miserable existence. He shook his head.

"I-I left my axe back in the arena," he said weakly and turned to almost sprint back down into the dragon killing arena. Just to be sure, he hid there for over an hour until he was sure they had gotten bored and left and then he wearily dragged his aching shape up the hill and home.


	11. Chapter Eleven

**Eleven.**

The next morning was even stranger for he woke at dawn, blinking and rolling over in his bed, giving a huge stretch and yawn and then frowning. It hadn't hurt. It hadn't hurt! He sat up in a shot and dragged his grubby tunic up, staring down at his front and probing his pale skin with cool fingers. He frowned.

There should be a huge crop of dark purple bruises, blooming under his exploring fingers but the freckled skin was clean and unmarked. He tenderly slid his hand over the cracked ribs and, steeling himself, he took a deep breath. Nothing happened: it was normal and pain-free. His eyes widened so he dragged the tunic off and went to find a bucket of water. He turned round and stood so he could inspect his back in the reflection. And then he back-pedalled so hard he tripped over his bed and landed hard on his backside. He winced at the hot sting of an impact on his sore rear. He frowned. The reflection had shown his back was healed, the welts faded to the faintest of residual bruises. He took a shuddering breath.

But why was his rear still sore if he had healed so quickly? And then he realised. "Toothless!" he breathed. The dragon had licked his front and back-even growling at him when he tried to prevent the action-but he hadn't licked Hiccup's rear. Admittedly, allowing the dragon to lick his butt would have gone way past the borders of weird and kinky but where Toothless had licked him, his wounds had healed. Either he was magical-which Hiccup didn't believe (no offence, Odin, he added superstitiously)-or the dragon's saliva had some rather amazing healing powers.

He raced down the stairs, grabbed dried meat and bread for breakfast and a couple of fish for Toothless and snatched up his new flight vest and then ran-yes, ran!-to the cove. Toothless was waiting, having heard his eager steps and the dragon gave a happy croon as he appeared. The boy ran down to his dragon and threw a strong embrace round the blunt muzzle.

"Toothless!" he said in a choked voice. "You are amazing! You healed me, didn't you, bud?" The dragon could feel the wetness on his face and realised the boy was crying again. But he had healed the little Viking, hadn't he? Or had he missed another painful injury that was causing his friend distress? Hiccup heard the quizzical sound and lifted his face, cuffing the tears off his face.

"It's okay, bud-I'm happy!" he assured the dragon urgently. "I'm…happy!" And he grinned, prompting the dragon to mirror the action with his own, gummy grin. Hiccup hugged him again. "I'm happy!" he whispered.

They flew for longer this morning with Hiccup noting the limitations of a manually held rope to control the tail. He only had one hand free to control the tail and it was very approximate and inaccurate: not to mention with only one hand on the saddle, any change in direction basically jerked him free. He needed a better way-and the arrangement was really clumsy. But if he could run the cable along the tail and the dragon's flank…maybe over a gearing arrangement, he could deploy the tail with his foot and then he could hold on with two hands and it would all…work…

Hiccup stared down onto the cove as they gently banked and landed. The boy threw his dragon the fish as he began to unstrap his flight vest and snared his journal from the fur vest, urgently sketching his initial concepts and beginning to plan how he would construct this unique device. A tiny part of him longed to ask Gobber for his help but the rest of him-the sane part…saner, he amended-reminded him Gobber hated dragons and was in charge of dragon training class. No matter what his friend had asked him, this was something he could never share.

He gave the dragon a grateful scratch, his dexterous fingers digging into the soft scales as he scratched and the dragon gave blissful croons. Then suddenly, he hit a spot under the jawbone and and the dragon's eyes rolled back in his head and he collapsed, boneless. He was rumbling in ecstasy. Hiccup stared at his hands in astonishment. Now this was one he had to try!

The dragon of the day was the speedy Deadly Nadder and both he and Astrid were the only two left when the lesson drew to its climax. She had driven it back when it came for him. And while he wasn't bothered about winning, he would see her charging the dragon with her axe and he guessed she would harm it badly if she hit. She looked really mad. As he reached forward, his hands scratching urgently at the dragon's scaly cheek-her scales were much harsher than Toothless's-and then he snaked his hand under the jaw and hit the spot. She gave a soft little sigh and collapsed, boneless. Defeated!

And over the blissful, boneless body of the Nadder, he faced an enraged Astrid. She screamed at him in rage and he read it again: contempt, anger, hatred. There was no respect, compassion or even congratulation. These were the eyes of an enemy and he felt a cold chill run down his spine. Somehow, his success had turned the girl of his dreams into a deadly foe.

Astrid had stormed out by the time Gobber handed out his verdicts, his award of top marks to Hiccup a formality. The boy blushed, unable to cope with compliments. He still felt guilty because he hadn't learned to fight dragons, as his father had demanded. All he had done was use tricks and subterfuge to incapacitate the beasts without harming them. He really didn't deserve the plaudits.

He went to the forge to do his service for Gobber and repay the blacksmith for the materials he was still stealing. He had visualised and drawn blueprints for the tail gearing mechanism and was now starting to build components. It was going to take a while because he had set himself his most complex challenge. But the practice he had gained in building his various dragon-fighting contraptions had trained him to solve mechanical problems, to see answers in his mind and calculate the solutions to problems he had never dreamed even existed. And he was careful, because he knew if he fell, he would die. And so would Toothless.

He took a break around dusk and pulled his vest on with some trepidation before walking up to the Hoffersons' house. With his heart in his mouth, he knocked on the door. And then he waited. Finally, the door opened and Olaf Hofferson stared down on him, his eyes surprised. Hiccup gave a shy smile.

"Erm, is Astrid in?" he asked softly. Hofferson looked down on him and frowned. He looked uncomfortable.

"Yes-but I don't think she wants to see you, son," he told the boy gently. "She's very angry about Dragon Training." He sagged.

"I know, sir," he said sorrowfully. "I-I never meant to upset her, sir-but I have to defend myself. She is far and away the best of us. I am just...lucky." Hofferson frowned at him.

"You look as if you know what you're doing, son," he commented, having watched the morning's lesson. Hiccup pressed his hands to his face and groaned.

"I _want_ Astrid to win, sir," he admitted. "But when the dragon comes at me, I have to do something! I'm not strong enough to fight them off alone. I have to stop them. But I truly want Astrid to win. I know how much it means to her. Please tell her that. And tell her-I'm sorry. She has been kind to me and I have valued her kindness more than she can know." Hofferson patted him softly on the shoulder, touched by his sincere apology.

"I will, son," he promised. "And...you take care, alright?"

"Thank you, sir," Hiccup said softly as he walked back to the forge.

He completed three axe heads as well before he called it a night, laying the neatly finished metal on the back bench, ready for Gobber to customise them and assign them to suitable owners. Hiccup-made tools were among the best Gobber produced, though not a single villager-except Astrid-knew he was possessed of that level of skill. Then he glanced up: he had seen Astrid talking with Snotlout earlier, something that was unusual since it was no secret that she loathed him. He sighed again: his already remote chances with her seemed to have evaporated completely since he had inadvertently got good at Dragon Training. He wearily took off his leather apron, ensured the fire was properly out and closed up the forge, then headed up the hill to his home. He needed a good long sleep.

It was late and the stars were out with the chill of frost on the air. It was technically still summer but apart from the very odd week, there were often frosty nights. He gave a yawn as the made his tired way up the long flight of steps that finally led to the little grassy lawn in front of the Chief's House. Hiccup stared up, sighed and reached for the door.

A hand grabbed his wrist and he was hauled roughly round the corner into the deeply shadowed space beside the house, hidden from the prying eyes of the village. Hiccup's eyes widened as he was dragged behind the rainwater barrel and felt himself slammed against the wall of the house. There were four shapes in front of him and he felt his throat tighten with fear. He began shaking his head.

"No…please…" he whispered. Snotlout cocked his fist.

"Astrid reckons you're cheating!" he announced coldly, his eyes gleaming at the chance to beat his cousin again. It hadn't seemed fair when the boy was winning but if it was all a trick, then he needed punishing, didn't he? Hiccup squeaked in fear.

"N-no," he whimpered. Technically, he hadn't. The lessons asked for the dragons to be defeated, not killed. Otherwise, the Berkians would have to catch a lot of dragons for each class.

"No one gets as good as you without cheating!" Astrid said, coming close to the pinioned Hiccup. The boy felt his breath freeze in his throat. Astrid had never participated in his beatings-until now, when he had become a nuisance. His heart lurched in despair.

"I'm not cheating!" he gasped, trying to pull his arms free but Ruff and Tuff were too strong and experienced at holding him still for beatings. "Please, I hoped you'd be happy I wasn't screwing it up!"

"You are for me!" Astrid snapped. "I have trained all my life to be the best at dragon training. How can I do that if you are cheating your way to top marks!"

"And we all know Gobber won't call you for cheating-so we have to!" Snotlout hissed. "And whatever my Princess wants, she gets!" Hiccup's panicked green gaze swung wildly from Snotlout to Astrid and saw something ruthless in her face. He took a shaky breath.

"You're…you're…?" he gasped, recalling her words to his cousin all those days ago when Snotlout had threatened him so personally. When she had wheedled all that information out of him that he would never want Snotlout to know. He felt the betrayal like a knife in his heart. "Odin, no…"

Her fist was the first to slam into his face, cracking his head against the wall behind while he felt his lip split. She hit _really_  hard-though he would expect nothing less. Then Snotlout joined in, his meaty fists pounding into the scrawny body-face, chest, gut, face again… Hiccup gave a desperate cry, knowing no one would help him. Astrid hit him again and he sagged, his vision already spinning. He stared up at her with pleading green eyes, begging her for clemency, for a tiny flash of the compassion she had given him only a week or so earlier. But there was nothing there but anger and he closed his eyes because he didn't want to see the hatred in the clear blue eyes he had fantasised about. It was as if his best dream had turned into his worst nightmare.

He didn't recall when they stopped holding him, just when he curled up against the wall and tried to shield himself from the kicks. Each thudded through his pain-wracked body and he gave a final weary groan before he coughed blood and slumped, unconscious. In the end, it was Ruff who hauled them away, staring down at the little bloody shape, reminding them that he was the Chief's son and killing him would almost certainly lead to banishment for all of them. Snotlout gave one last vicious kick into the boy's back and then wheeled away, his arm draped over Astrid's shoulders.

"C'mon, babe-let me show you my new basement flat!" he said as he steered her down the hill. She forced herself not to shake him off, her disgust at him only dwarfed by her disgust at herself. She had promised her father that she would be a friend to Hiccup but her anger and her jealousy had led her to this. She had seen the desperate plea and the terrible hurt at her betrayal in Hiccup's glorious green eyes and she felt shame curl in her gut. How could she have honour if she treated a helpless boy like this? But her family were relying on her: winning Dragon Training would gain her honour, reputation and a high bride-price as an accomplished Shield Maiden. And her family needed her to succeed. So she allowed herself to be steered away, leaving the little bloody shape curled in the dirt.

Hiccup's eyes opened, unfocussed, as they started down the steps and he stifled the pitiful moan that slid over his bloodied lips. He couldn't recall one that bad since… And he felt tears slide down his face. Since his Dad had been injured and Spitelout and Snotlout had almost beaten him to death. But this time, it was Astrid, leading the assault. Astrid breaking him. Astrid spitting on his dreams.

He almost wanted just to lie there and succumb to hypothermia or bloodloss, but there was one person who relied on him, who needed him. Toothless. The dragon couldn't fly or feed himself without the boy. If Hiccup died, the dragon would starve and die-or be caught and slaughtered. So he lay on the cold ground, his breath coalescing around him in pained little clouds, before he agonisingly got to all fours and began to crawl to the door. It took him ten minutes, fighting for breath and sobbing his pain before he got into the house. The fire was all but out and Hiccup painfully managed to grab a couple of logs and toss them onto the fire before his strength gave out and he collapsed on the floor by the fire, senseless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if Astrid seems OOC but pathological jealousy can make people behave very strangely.


	12. Chapter Twelve

**Twelve.**

The sounds of banging slowly roused him from his stupor and he moved his head, everything hurting. He didn't have the strength to move, to even make a sound. He struggled to breathe and wondered if they would just go and leave him to die. But the door slammed open and Gobber lumbered in, outlined by the sunlight of the next day, taking in the battered shape lying on the floor in one searing expletive. Then Hiccup found himself scooped in big, gentle arms and his broken shape borne down the hill to the house of the Elder.

Gothi, Elder of Berk and the premier healer, had been surreptitiously watching the Dragon Training class and had been astonished and fascinated by his progress. She gasped as he was carried into her little house and motioned to the table instantly, while bending to scoop up her herbs. The boy was semiconscious and moaning through split and bloody lips, his face swollen with bruising and both eyes blacked and swollen. His breathing was irregular and shallow, indicating broken ribs-four, if she was any judge-and his body was shivering in pain. Her tiny, gnarled hand tenderly stroked the bloody auburn hair off his battered face and sighed. Hiccup's green eyes fluttered as open as they could.

"E-Elder…?" he whined. She nodded and stroked his face gently. "S-sorry…" he murmured. He closed his eyes.

"What happened, laddie?" Gobber asked, his voice edged with anger. Hiccup shuddered as cold water was gently dabbed against his bruised face. The broken boy gave a dry sob.

"Too dark…" he lied, too ashamed to admit the girl of his dreams had planned and led his beating this time.

"That Snotlout…" Gobber snarled but the boy gave a wince.

"N-nothing…n-new…" he gasped and his eyes snapped open as Gothi dabbed his broken cheek. "Pain…" His eyes were wide with distress. Gothi gently rested a bowl against his lips and trickled a bitter tasting liquid into his mouth. He swallowed because he knew she would not hurt him and then he lay back. "W-will I d-die?" he asked shakily. It was the first time he had asked the question and the fact a boy could ask such a thing made both Elder and Blacksmith share a horrified glance. Gothi shook her head but the expression in her eyes was angry. This wasn't how the Hooligan Tribe treated its members.

"Gothi says no," Gobber admitted, "but you are hurt. You're gonna be off class for days…" Hiccup's eyes snapped open and he whimpered. Toothless would be waiting. Toothless who had nothing to eat. His best friend…

"N-no…have to get back…" he gasped and began to struggle. Gobber rested a soft hand on his chest-but it was more than enough to hold him helpless.

"Take it easy, lad," the blacksmith soothed him. "You've taken a bad beating this time. You need time to heal-or you'll do yourself permanent harm!" The boy lay back, not caring that tears leaked from his desperate emerald eyes. Toothless was alone and helpless and Hiccup was betraying him. He had to get out. He had to get to Toothless!

oOo

Olaf Hofferson inspected his daughter as she polished her axe and glared at the blade. "My love, you will melt that blade of you stare at it much longer!" he told her gently. She raised her blue eyes and he saw there were shadows on her face, as if she had slept badly.

"Sorry, father," she said listlessly. "I was just..." And her voice tailed off. What had she just been doing? Just recalling how she had disobeyed her father's request? Just recalling how she had abused a boy who had trusted her? Just recalling how she had organised the others to beat and brutalise Hiccup. Just recalling his pleading eyes and sobbing breaths as she had crushed him. And just feeling more ashamed than she ever had in her life.

"Astrid?" She looked up and her gaze momentarily shimmered with tears.

"Dad-it is honourable to attack an enemy because he prevents you protecting you family?" she asked.

"You know it is, daughter."

"And if he ruins your honour?"

"Yes."

"If he steals your possessions?"

"Yes"

"What about if he prevents you regaining honour by cheating?"

Olaf frowned at his daughter and shook his head. "Be careful, Astrid," he told her sternly. "Cheating must be proven, not suspected simply because a person is just unexpectedly more talented that he has previously proven. Honour is a very dangerous reason to harm another. Ephemeral and invisible. What one man calls honour, another sees as nothing of value." He paused. "I would not want you to harm another for such a poor excuse. I would prefer you to be generous in defeat and work harder to improve than allow envy and anger to guide you to an unspeakable act."

Astrid lowered her blade and stared at the fire. "Oh."

"By the way, I missed you last night, daughter," he added. "Hiccup came round. He wanted to apologise and assured me that he wanted you to win Training. He said you were the best and he had just been lucky. And...he thanked your for your kindness. I am glad you have been looking out for him."

"Dad?" Her voice was soft. He looked at her with pride in his eyes. "Nothing."

oOo

They dosed him almost senseless with painkillers and bandaged his broken ribs, sprained wrist and swollen knee. He lay in a blissful slumber until he woke at dawn the next day and the pain hit him full force. He almost screamed but was aware he wasn't at home and realised he was at the Elder's house. He bit down on his split lips and moaned in pain until his gentle cries roused the Elder and she fed him more painkiller. He was wracked by guilt over his dragon and utterly despondent that he had done something right and it earned him his worst beating since…the last time he did something worthwhile.

It just doesn't matter because it's me. Hiccup the Useless strikes again. If I do anything right, it's cheating. If I do something wrong, I'm a screw-up. Why am I judged so much worse than anyone else? Snotlout is the heir and he's rubbish at Dragon Training but no one makes fun of him. And he's stupid. The twins are just weird and sadistic and Fishlegs is clumsy and doesn't really have much common sense. And Astrid…Astrid is focussed, ruthless and has anger issues. Not to mention she uses people for her own ends. But only old Useless gets the crap kicked out of him.

He stared painfully at the roof. He didn't care about Dragon Training but he didn't want to quit. His father had ordered him in and if he could survive without killing a dragon, maybe he would be accepted by his father. Or maybe he would just have to bide his time until he finished his new tail and trialled it-with the aim of leaving Berk forever. Because, somehow, he doubted he would ever be accepted now.

He waited during the day, taking his painkillers and the broth they offered him. But once it was night and Gothi was asleep, he sat up and slid his legs over the side of the bed. His head spun gently and he mastered his breathing against the surge of nausea but he determinedly slid to the floor, cushioning his broken ribs. His legs wavered and his left knee jabbed pain from where it had twisted as he collapsed but he forced them straight by sheer force of will: he couldn't give up! He shuffled over to where his clothes were folded, laundered. He dragged them on, checked his journal was still in its place and then shuffled to the door. Finally, he let himself out of the door and began to make his painful way up the hill.

He had to keep stopping and allowing his savaged frame to regather his strength, before carrying on. His head was spinning and he guessed he may have a fever. But when he got home, though he cast a longing glance up at his bedroom, instead he grabbed his flight vest, a sack with some not too old fish for Toothless and a sturdy stick from the woodpile as a walking staff. Then he emerged into the cold night and began to make his way into the forest. There was only one thought in his mind: get to Toothless.

It took an age during which time the frost edged the grass and the moon set. But he had walked this way so often that his feet could make the journey without having to concentrate. Which was handy because his head was muzzy and his vision blurred and he couldn't actually recall most of the journey. All he could think of was his friend, the feel of his warm, scaly skin, his gentle croon, the fact that he was pleased to see him.

He could barely scramble down the rocky path to the cove, his legs wavering. His painkillers had worn off hours earlier and every motion hurt, but he knew he would only feel safe when he was with the dragon.

Strange, a Viking should only feel safe with the deadliest enemies of his kind and in mortal peril when he is in his own village, surrounded by his tribe, he thought randomly as he hit the floor of the cove. He stared around the bluish space, the shadows blacker than the pits of Hel and staggered forward, dropping the sack of fish and the flight vest.

"T-Toothless?" he whispered. "I'm s-sorry, bud…I-I…" And he collapsed onto his knees, then sprawled on his face with a pained cry, burying his face in his arms to muffle the agonised cries.

The roar of the dragon reverberated through his very bones and he glanced up as the dragon trotted towards him, his wings half-unfurled and eyes narrow with anger. And then he froze and saw his little Viking, collapsed on the ground, smelling of blood and pain and he galloped faster, his pupils popping wide with worry. He nudged the boy tenderly and crooned, his warm breath huffing over his battered shape as Hiccup moaned at the gentle greeting. The dragon nuzzled him again, his keen sense of smell detecting the scents over the various injuries, committing the smells to memory so that one day soon, Toothless would be able to make pay those who had done this terrible harm to his beloved rider. He also smelled other gentler scents mixed with the herbal slaves, the smells of the people who had helped his little Viking.

Hiccup lifted his head and his bleary green eyes locked on the dragon's. His face was flushed under his horrible bruises and the dragon could hear the pitter-pat of his rapid heartbeat. He stretched out a shaking hand and Toothless pressed his nose instantly against it. "Sorry…bud…" he breathed. "I-I came as soon…as I c-could…" Then he painfully shrugged off his vest and rolled onto his side. With a low groan, he flipped the hem of his tunic up and began to haul it up to his shoulders. And then he stopped, wincing and groaning and Toothless gently leaned forward, deftly gripping the tunic and slowly, carefully, hauling it up over the boy's head.

Abysmally skinny and battered, his body black and blue from his beating, Hiccup lay his head down on the ground, his eyes closing. Toothless gave a sad little croon then sniffed his injuries again. Hiccup gave a weary sigh. "Could really use your help, buddy," he breathed in a pleading tone, his eyes fluttering with resignation. The dragon gave a gentle whine, then began to lick his brutalised shape, his pitiful whimpers mirroring Hiccup's pain. Hiccup rolled onto his back, lying on the crumpled tunic as the dragon diligently licked the battered little Viking, dousing his shape in his healing saliva. Hiccup opened his eyes and gave a very bleary smile.

"Thank you," he whispered as the dragon carefully licked his face, his swollen and bruised eyes, his open mouth and split lips. His eyes snapped open-the saliva tasted absolutely foul. But the dragon kept licking and he swallowed, his face pulling into a grimace at the absolutely disgusting taste. "Bud…" he breathed as the dragon dragged his fur vest over the boy, emptied the sack and laid it over him as well. After swiftly eating the fish, Toothless curled his warm shape around the boy and Hiccup curled up in his scaly embrace and he finally slept a peaceful sleep.

oOo

He woke in the morning, the chittering of the birds signalling the sun hitting the base of the cove. For a moment, he tried to remember where he was and then he realised: he was asleep with his dragon. His eyes snapped open and he scrambled to a sagging sitting position. He started breathing hard and reached urgently for his tunic. He winced and then glanced down: the bruises had melted to faded yellow-green and his ribs seemed to have stopped hurting. He raised a hand to his forehead and realised it was cool: his fever had broken.

Then he gently fingered his lower lip and mouth with his left hand: as expected, the ugly splits in his flesh had healed but there was something else. He forced his memory back: he had swallowed the saliva. He frowned and stroked his face: the swelling had settled and he knew by moving his face that most of his injuries had faded. But not completely: they were too severe to vanish all in one go. And then he laid back against the gently rumbling Toothless. His head sagged back.

"Thanks, bud," he sighed. He dragged his tunic on and stared into the clear blue sky. "I wish we could be up there right now," he breathed. Then he reached for his flight vest and began to strap it on. "You really are my only friend," he said softly. "How pathetic is that, eh? I'm a Viking, I have a father, a cousin and an uncle and a whole gods damned tribe and the only person I can wholly trust is a dragon. What does that say about me? I truly am utterly useless and worthless." He closed his eyes. "Sometimes, I wish I could just kill myself but then I would be condemned to wander Midgard forever and I'd never see my Mom. I wish my Dad would give one sign-just the smallest, tiniest sign-that he loved me. But I just can't try any more, bud. No matter what I do, whether its good or bad, all I get is blame and hatred and scorn."

The dragon gave him a little croon and saw his green gaze shining with tears. The dragon knew his ministrations had eased the boy's pain and his fever but the tone of his words told of a pain that couldn't be salved or healed by Night Fury saliva. He sensed genuine kindness, compassion and gentleness in the boy, at odds with his Viking dress and weapons. When they had met, there had been sadness but also a still-flickering optimism. Now, that little light was almost extinguished and the sadness and hopelessness hung around the boy like a cloud. His smile was the rarest of gems, the last chink of light before the darkness settled. And the Night Fury felt his heart twist in rage at the misery the boy was surrounded by.

He rose and gave his gummy smile, desperate the bring the smile back to the boy's face. And Hiccup did smile, his green eyes suddenly bright with happiness as he saw the dragon wiggle his body eagerly, inviting his rider aboard. The saddle was in place and Hiccup cautiously clambered aboard, leaning forward and grabbing the tail fin control rope.

"I gotta get your new tail finished," he said with renewed determination as the dragon flung them into the air and they soared over the forest and gently rode the thermals above the cliffs. "C'mon, bud-give me something to aim for!" And the dragon rolled lazily into a tight barrel roll, then spread his wings and soared upwards. Hiccup closed his eyes and lifted his head, savouring the winds racing through his auburn mop. His eyes opened again, sparkling emeralds that danced with joy and happiness. He took a deep breath and then guided Toothless back to the cove. The dragon gave him a reassuring croon and the boy hugged him with every ounce of strength in his skinny body.

"Thanks, bud," he murmured. "Gods know, I needed that." Then he paused and gave a little sigh. "But I gotta go back. Dragon Training-can't possibly disappoint my Dad-Odin forbid!" His tone had turned sarcastic. He shrugged off his flight vest and pulled on his fur vest. "Time to face the music," he added and stroked the dragon's nose once more. "But I'll be back later with breakfast…well, tea," he amended with a wry grin. He stroked the dragon once more. "See you later!" And then he scrambled up into the crack and began to trot back to Berk.

He arrived just in time, remembering to collect his axe and limping into the killing arena just in time. He lined up at the far end of the rank, warily keeping his distance from the other teens who had ambushed and beaten him so badly. Gobber stared at him with a frown and stared at his worried face. He still looked bruised and battered, though much better than he had. Then the blacksmith swung his gaze back to the rest of the class.

"Before we continue, I have an announcement to make!" he said loudly. He stared at each teen in turn and all of them averted their eyes. "I can understand a few wee pranks, maybe a bit of roughhousing but what happened three days ago was completely unacceptable." He paced back and forth, his gaze straying to Hiccup, who was furiously inspecting the floor.

"C'mon, it's only Useless and it was only…" Snotlout began but Gobber turned to him like a snake.

"SILENCE!" he bellowed. "Dragon Training isn't about beating your fellow Vikings: it's about beating the dragons! And to do that, you have to be able to work as a team. You have to trust your fellows to cover your back as you will cover theirs. You have to hope they will come to your aid when you need it-and swear you will come to theirs, no matter what! Can any of you honestly say you have done that?"

No one spoke.

"I know Hiccup is the smallest and physically weakest of the class," Gobber said in a calmer voice, "but I got to tell you now that, despite missing three days, he's still ahead of all of you in marks! He can't swing an axe or throw a bola but, by Thor, he can defeat those beasts! I know you big strong Vikings-and that includes you, Astrid-all think you have some Gods-given right to dominate this class but I can tell you now that the lad has been winning fair and square. And that's why I'm making this announcement."

He paused dramatically. Hiccup hunched his shoulders and wondered if he was going to make some kind of disastrous decision that would make his life a million times worse.

"As of this moment, you will all be responsible for the others' safety!" he growled. The teens frowned and stared at him. His cold blue eyes flicked across their puzzled faces. "And that means, if anything-ANYTHING-else happens to Hiccup, I will throw the whole lot of you out of Dragon Training!"

There was instantly a storm of protests.

"Hey-not fair!"

"You can't do that!"

"I'm the Heir-I have to pass!"

"You can't punish us if you don't know who did it…"

"Has Useless said anything because if he did…"

"I've worked all my life for this and you can't…"

"…will appeal to the Chief!"

Gobber just laughed at them, his expression hard.

"Go and talk to Stoick!" he sneered. "I train new recruits and if I say you aren't fit to graduate, then IT'S OVER!" He stared into their shocked eyes. "And that means-no shield maidens, no warriors, no glory, no Valhalla! All you'll be fit for will be fishing and sewing and bread making…"

"Works for me," Hiccup muttered, still staring at the floor. Gobber flicked him a glance. Contrary to popular belief, he actually had very good hearing-he just didn't listen, which wasn't the same thing.

"The only one who will not be expelled in that case will be Hiccup!" Gobber added, earning a groan from the boy.

"Thanks for making my life even worse, Gobber," Hiccup sighed.

"My pleasure!" the smith said abruptly, causing the lad to look up in astonishment that he had heard his quiet comment. Gobber flashed him a brief smile before turning to the rest of the class.

"Hey, that means if Hiccup beats himself up, he could get us all thrown out and he wins by default!" Tuff argued, frowning. His twin frowned and then nodded in agreement.

"Yeah! That's hardly fair!" she echoed.

"Just like he did three nights ago?" Gobber asked pointedly. "When he held his own arms back, pinned himself against the wall of his house and managed to punch his own face in from two different angles?" Hiccup winced and all of the class-except Fishlegs-stared furiously at the ground. "That attack involved four people against the smallest and weakest boy in class. I can show you the bloodstains where the lad dragged himself round his house, up the stairs and into the house, to collapse by the fire. So if I expelled two of you straight out, I would be sure to include at least one guilty person. IS THAT CLEAR?"

"Clear…" The mumbles were reluctant.

"So this is the teamwork part. You are all canned if one of you -or more than one of you-attacks him again. So the rest of you who actually want to graduate will have to watch them like hawks and prevent any stupidity. And stop Hiccup accidentally killing himself as well." Hiccup groaned. It would be almost impossible to see Toothless with the rest of class following him.

"I-I'm sure I don't need that s-sort of help," he stammered.

"Nonsense!" Gobber told him cheerily. "It'll do yer good to have company!" Hiccup stared at Snotlout's furious glare and sighed.

"Not really a company sort of guy," he admitted, envisaging a torrent of abuse and insults if he had to hang around with his classmates for any length of time. "C-can't you just get them to check I'm alive and not in pieces at supper time?" There were a few surprised looks from the others: Hiccup wondered if they assumed he would want them trailing him like a pack of hounds.

"That'd work," Fishlegs said timidly. "It would enable his freedom while ensuring his safety from bullying!" Gobber stared at him: the largest boy in class had managed as many long words as the smallest. He scanned the others.

"Does that work for you?" he asked. There was furious nodding and agreeing and Hiccup gave a sigh of relief.

"Thanks," he murmured. Gobber gave a shrug.

"By the way-this isn't me," he told the class with smug satisfaction. "This order is direct from the Elder!"

That silenced the class and they stared at Gobber and then along at Hiccup with wide eyes. Hiccup was acknowledged as the village screw-up but he had been doing very well in dragon training and it was to be expected that the village elder would watch the lessons with interest. Her tiny, rotund figure was often high in the stands as they trained and she had obviously noted what had been going on. Gobber gave a smile at their shock and Astrid felt utter shame assail her. The Elder had seen her scream at Hiccup, seen her abuse him so hatefully when all he had done was what they had been asked to do. And no one had actually taught them how to fight dragons, anyway. Gobber's learning on the job approach meant each teen dealt with the dragons according to his capabilities. And Hiccup wasn't a strong physical specimen. He was quirky, clever and determined-and that was how he had done it. And Gothi had seen that… and approved.

"Lecture over," Gobber told them happily and walked to the next pen. The teens scrambled for their shields and Astrid allowed Hiccup to go first, watching him grab a shield and then scoot away from her with a very scared look on his face. And who could blame him? The last time she looked him in the face, she had followed that up with a devastating punch. "The Terrible Terror!" he announced, standing by a huge gate…and then the small dragon emerged from a little flap by the floor. It scuttled out and licked its eye.

"That?" Tuffnut scoffed. "That doesn't look like much…"

And then it attacked him, flapping up furiously and grabbing his nose, savaging him viciously. Everyone knew Terrors were small and fierce but they fought in packs so they could easily take a sheep-or a child-if they attacked in numbers. Tuff's pathetic screams filled the arena as he was mauled by the fierce little dragon.

"Ow! Ow! Get it off! Help!" he screamed as his twin watched him suffer with a grin on her face. Hiccup stared around the class wondering if a single one of them understood the meaning of 'teamwork' or 'having someone's back'. "I am hurt, I am very much hurt!" the male twin wailed. Snotlout hefted his axe as did Astrid and Hiccup wondered if he could watch them kill the little dragon. He decided and glanced at the howling Tuffnut.

But the Terror suddenly leapt off him and pounced on the floor. Hiccup was using his shield boss to catch the sunlight and project a bright spot on the arena floor that the dragon was following and pouncing on like a kitten. It was a game he had already played several times with Toothless and the boy always laughed at the sight of the ferocious Night Fury pouncing on a spot of sunlight and then inspecting his paw in confusion as he realised he had caught nothing. Expertly, he weaved it backwards and forwards until he guided the dragon back through its hatch. He kicked it shut and pulled up the bolt as it vanished safely inside.

He looked up into the shocked faces of his classmates. Gobber began to clap and Hiccup dipped his head in embarrassment. Really-was he the only one who had been listening to the talk at the start of class?

"What?" he asked softly.

"Oh, he's much better than you ever were!" Tuff commented tactlessly, rubbing his chewed nose. Astrid gave a huge snort but restrained herself from attacking Hiccup-verbally or physically-though he saw the look of anger on her eyes and cringed. He was scoring well in Dragon Training but, by the gods, he was just as effectively killing his chances with Astrid. Minuscule as they had been.

Forget it, Hiccup, he told himself miserably as she stormed off. Some dreams aren't ever meant to be..


	13. Chapter Thirteen

**Thirteen.**

His days settled into a sort of routine: up at dawn to fetch fish and feed Toothless, Dragon Training in the morning, afternoon with Toothless in flight practice and-basically-play with his new friend and evening in the forge, upgrading the saddle and tail and earning his keep with the blacksmith and village. The only new thing was lunch in the Hall, insisted upon by Gobber after training before the teens went off to do their own things in the afternoon.

Lunch was getting awkward because he was no longer a pariah. He usually sat alone at a table by the class, because the few times he had tried to sit with them had ended in being pushed away, blocked or-once-sprawling on the floor with his stew all over him and Snotlout laughing loudly at his humiliation. Now, the class wanted to sit with him-except Astrid, who just scowled and slammed her mug down in anger-and he began to feel claustrophobic and very uncomfortable. To put it bluntly, the only time he was surrounded by people was usually when he was being beaten, shouted at or humiliated in some other way. No one associated with Useless voluntarily! And it wasn't just the class as the villagers began to sit with him, firing questions at him about his skills at Dragon Training.

He had begun to feel immensely awkward. Not only was he cheating because he wasn't fighting dragons but he had to be careful about what he said because he didn't want to betray Toothless. He stammered and fidgeted but his father had taught him that he should always try to answer his people's questions and though he was stripped of the Heirdom, he had all his lessons drummed into him hard and did his best. So he was polite, calm and generous in answering all the random and repetitive questions they put to the boy they had all sneered at, spat at and taunted until a few days earlier. Hiccup found it exhausting.

But he was making excellent progress with the saddle. His leather flight vest was pretty perfect, lightweight, warmish and supportive and he was happy with the security of the safety lines. He had finished the tail assembly and threaded a finer rope along the intricate system of gears than ran over Toothless's left shoulder. A pedal allowed him to change the fin position and he had six possible options: he just needed to learn the positions himself. Hiccup was really worried that he would prove the weak link in the system, that his inexperience or error would be what caused them to crash.

He had just evaded Astrid as he had carried the new tail assembly through the forest. She had looked really angry, practising with her axe. Admittedly, Astrid always looked angry as she was killing trees but she had stopped and scowled really hatefully at him and he had cringed, offering a weak little smile and ducking out of sight. He heard her crashing around, looking for him and her snort of frustration as he sneaked away and made it safely to the cove.

He had found a perfect spot to dry test the tail and had Toothless tied by a rope to a hefty boulder, allowing the dragon to glide in the strong prevailing wind while Hiccup tried the different pedal positions and scribbled notes on his 'cheat sheet'. Toothless was getting restless but Hiccup was carefully perfecting his diagram when the rope snapped and boy and dragon went tumbling backwards into a stand of trees.

It took a few minutes to catch his breath and scramble up. Toothless was grumbling and shaking his head as the boy searched for his charcoal pencil and found it had been snapped by the impact. He sighed and made to move-only to find himself yanked back by the bulk of Toothless. He frowned and stared into the wide green eyes-and the dragon made a laughing noise. Hiccup turned to see his safety line stuck, the hook crushed by the impact. He had left his knife in the cove and it wouldn't cut anyway because Hiccup-being Hiccup-had run a fine iron wire through the lines to add strength.

Oh well, he could just take his vest off and… He groaned. The buckle was utterly distorted from the impact as well and there was no way he could wrestle that open either. He could take the whole saddle and tail assembly off-they were all connected-but the chance of him getting the equipment back in one piece was negligible. He had needed to bring it up in sections because it was too bulky for him to carry. And he really didn't want to cut his vest up because it had taken so long to make and he doubted he could sneak that much leather away again without Gobber starting to ask some very awkward questions. There was only one option-and it was stupid. And crazy.

So, after dark, he was sneaking into the village attached to Toothless. The dragon was ideally camouflaged for this trip except he was insatiably curious: after all, he had never seen a Viking village from the ground. There were so many interesting smells and sounds and he could really pick up on a fresh catch of cod…

Hiccup had to use all his strength, persuasion and pleading to keep the dragon heading in the direction he wanted. Toothless's nose twitched and the dragon stiffened: he could smell one of the scents from Hiccup's wounds. He sniffed and headed towards Snotlout's home. Hiccup strained with all his might and managed to stop the dragon.

"Where are you going, you useless reptile?" he hissed. "You go there and he'll kill you then me then both of us together!" he warned, panicking. The dragon was pulling really hard. "Not that I wouldn't like to see Snotlout lightly toasted but NOT NOW!" Reluctantly, the dragon allowed himself to be led away. His agile nose found the other three scents and he memorised the houses: he knew where to go. Then Hiccup led him into the forge, seeking a suitable tool for pry the hook open. He had just found a pair of heavy pliers and a short knife when Toothless turned, seeing a sheep and clattering half the weapons to the floor. He heard a voice outside.

"Hello?"

He cringed. It was Astrid-the last person he wanted to see. But if he didn't come out, she would come in so he threw his leather apron on and ducked through the forge door, pulling the shutters down behind him.

"Oh, hi Astrid, hi Astrid, hi Astrid!" he babbled, his eyes wild. She eyed him suspiciously. She was on duty today to check he was still alive and unbeaten and the teens had learned finding Hiccup at home was almost impossible. Evening meant forge and they all caught him there on their way to the supper that he never seemed to eat. She frowned: while Hiccup certainly was alive and intact, he was acting even more weirdly than usual.

"Are you okay?" she asked, narrowing her eyes. He nodded wildly.

"Erm, yeah?" he answered. There was a jerk on his line: unbeknown to him, Toothless had seen a sheep and was thinking _mutton_. The dragon jerked again and Hiccup found himself slammed back against the shutters. He was just grateful he had stuffed the tools he needed into a satchel on Toothless's saddle.

"You're acting weirdly," Astrid accused him. "EVEN for you." He gave a weak smile, feeling his middle pulled painfully as Toothless lurched forward.

"Perhaps," he managed manically. "But-but I'm fine, thank you for asking..." Her eyes narrowed.

"Was that a jibe?" she asked sharply. His green eyes glittered and for a second, he really wanted to ask her why. But the moment was long gone.

"Think what you will," he said bitterly, inspecting her. "You will anyway. You've done your duty, Astrid. I won't take more of your time." Toothless tugged harder against him and he groaned.

"Are you really okay?" she asked, frowning. He was slammed against the shutters and suddenly he could barely breathe.

"Er…" he managed before Toothless pounced through the side window and Hiccup was dragged through the forge and out after him. Lightly bruised and breathless, he dragged on the line and threw himself into the saddle. They were galloping up the hill and back to Raven Point forest as Astrid peered into the deserted forge. She frowned: something wasn't right with Hiccup and if she could find it out, then maybe she could still win Dragon Training.


	14. Chapter Fourteen

**Fourteen.**

It was after lunch the next day when the ship returned from the search for the dragons' nest. Three had set out and one, badly scorched and damaged, had returned. But-miraculously-everyone was home safe: Stoick had led the defence in the vicious attack they had endured on entering Helheim's Gate and his leadership had made sure no one was left behind. But two ships were lost. Gobber was first at the docks, offering his hand to help his friend from the ship. Stock looked tired and his legs were shaking but he walked proudly from the vessel, acknowledging the salutes of his admiring and grateful shipmates: though Spitelout could fight better, Stoick had pulled his weight and his leadership was the reason they had come home at all.

"It's such a relief!"

"Out with the old, in with the new!"

"No one will miss that old thing anyway!"

Stoick frowned at the cheery chorus from villagers who had remained behind, waving and going to greet their returning friends and kin. The Chief turned to his friend.

"He's gone?" he asked, his face aghast. He hadn't been proud of the boy but if he was dead… But Gobber didn't look distraught, more…embarrassed.

"Er, most afternoons, actually," he said mildly. "But who can blame him? The life of a celebrity…He can hardly set foot out of the house without being mobbed by his new fans!" Stock stopped and stared at him.

"Wait-are we talking about Snotlout?" he asked. Gobber gave him an exasperated look. The man could be dense sometimes!

"No, Hiccup!" he snapped. "Your son? You know-skinny runt, dark red hair, green eyes, freckles, stammers, universally despised and hated by his family and village…"

"I know who Hiccup is…" Stoick snapped before his brain caught up with his mouth. "Wait-Hiccup is doing well in dragon training?"

"Leading," Gobber told him. "He seems to have a way with the beasts! And you've just come back in time: it's the final decision tomorrow. He's up against Astrid for the honour of killing the Monstrous Nightmare!" Stock blinked and turned to his friend.

"Where is he?" he demanded.

"I told you-he goes most afternoons. Probably for a walk. It seems to clear his mind. But in the evening, he always goes to the forge to put in some work for me. You'll find him there!" Gobber gave a grin. "Now tell me about your trip. Find the nest?"

"Not even close!" Stock growled. "It was a complete disaster…those beasts will drive us into the sea if they have a chance. I can't wait to see how my son kills those creatures!"

oOo

At the same moment, the boy in question was soaring above the cliffs on one of those creatures, checking the prosthetic tail assembly and nervously rechecking everything. Today was the big trial of the whole system: if it worked, they were in business and Hiccup could fly anywhere with his friend. He leaned forward, feeling infinitely safer in the saddle now he was able to hold on with two hands. He rechecked his lines and then fiddled with his cheat sheet.

"You ready, bud?" he asked the dragon. Toothless rumbled calmly, his wings wide and soaring easily. Hiccup could feel the tension in his powerful body and the boy leaned forward, secured himself and nodded. "Let's go!" he said and leaned forward. "Position three-no, four!" His heel stamped down and they dived towards the waves. The dragon was accelerating down and the boy felt the breath snatched from his body as they levelled out. Toothless was arrowing a mere two yards above the dancing waves and Hiccup could feel the spray in his face. He glanced up as they raced between the seastacks, seeing birds flocking overhead. Then Toothless pulled up and they bounced across a seasick. Hiccup struggled to right them and they bounced against another seastack.

"Yeah, that was my fault," he admitted as the dragon slapped him firmly across the face with one of his ears. "Ow!" he protested. "Okay-position four…no, three!" he said and moved his foot. The tail fin moved and Toothless eagerly climbed, great wings pumping ferociously as they arrowed vertically up, each wingbeat jolting the boy in the saddle and straining his arms.

"Yeah, baby!" Hiccup screamed in sheer delight, utterly enthralled by the sensations as they climbed higher. "This is so amazing…the clouds…the sky…the wind in my…" And then he saw the precious diagram flapping free from its attachment. "…cheat sheet!" he yelled. "STOP!"

He took his hands off the saddle and snatched desperately at the precious sheet and at that time, the dragon did exactly what he was asked. He stopped and Hiccup floated up from the saddle. His safety lines as he was temporarily weightless floated free and suddenly, he was unattached. He gave a panicking scream as both he and the dragon began to fall. He dropped away, tumbling to the sea a thousand feet below. His heart fluttering in his chest, he reached up to his dragon. He shouted to the spinning Toothless.

"C'mon-you gotta roll…" he shouted as the dragon spun wildly, slamming the boy away and sending him tumbling backwards. He shook his head and stretched again cursing, not for the first time, the fact he was small and scrawny. But he was nearly there and finally, his fingers closed on the edge of the saddle. Finding more strength than he knew he possessed, he swung into the saddle and clipped his lines back in. They were screaming down towards the trees now and he tried to peer at his cheat sheet but it was flapping everywhere and was utterly Useless. He grabbed the saddle, tossed it away and stamped his feet onto the pedal, snapping the tail fin open and leaning low on the saddle.

They were really speeding now, the Night Fury screaming along with the telltale whistle sounding as his wings sliced the air at top speed. Hiccup felt his foot move almost by instinct, altering he tail as they weaved in and out of the stacks. If they got it wrong, the impact would certainly kill the boy: he wasn't sure about the dragon. But they slalomed and dinked and suddenly, they were soaring up, clear of the seasick maze. Hiccup sat up in the saddle, giving an incoherent scream of delight.

Just as jubilant, Toothless fired a wide purple plasma blast just in front of them. Hiccup saw it just as they soared through it. He rolled his eyes. "Aw-come on!" he protested as the flames hit him.

oOo

Lightly singed and with hair sticking in every possible direction, they had landed on a nice secluded beach on an islet just off Berk. The volcanic rock had dried in spectacular columns and Toothless had scooped up a huge pile of fish before settling down as they sat in the light of the westering sun. Hiccup was resting back against the dragon, toasting a fish over the fire and still in shock.

He had nearly died. He had nearly _died_!

Okay, but he had FLOWN a Night Fury!

Gods, that was the most exciting thing in his life.

His father must NEVER know.

He was snapped from his thoughts when Toothless generously regurgitated him a half-fish. He smiled and waved his toasted fish on its stick.

"Thanks, bud, but I'm good," he said and the dragon gave a happy croon-that faded as a little flock of Terrible Terrors flittered in and immediately began trying to steal Toothless's well-earned meal. Hiccup couldn't suppress his smile as the feisty little dragons tried to snatch a fish from Toothless, resulting in a tug of war and the losing Terror (hey, no Terror was gonna steal Toothless's fish!) puffed itself up in a really insanely bold challenge. And he gasped as the Terror prepared to attack Toothless-only for the Night Fury to hit it with a tiny but precise blast in the mouth as it opened its mouth to fire at him. The little dragon steamed, burped and smoked poured from its nose and mouth. It staggered drunkenly past the boy.

"Wow, I guess you guys aren't so fireproof on the inside," he said and took pity on the little dragon, which was giving him plaintive looks. He offered it his fish. "Here," he said gently. It glanced up at him with the same hopeful look he knew he gave when someone-occasionally-said a kind word to him. And then it scoffed the whole thing eagerly. He gave a little smile and settled back against Toothless. He could get something later. But then the little dragon did something totally unexpected.

It scuttled across to him and rubbed his hand in gratitude for its meal. Then it proceeded to curl up under his hand and against his leg and purred. He stroked it, his eyes widening. The little dragon had just decided he was a friend and had given him its trust. It was sleeping vulnerable at his side, purring with happiness. He stroked it again. The dragons weren't cruel or vicious or dangerous…they were loyal and friendly and gentle, just wanting to be treated with kindness and compassion…like anyone else. And then it struck him.

"Everything we know about you guys is _wrong_!"

oOo

He got Toothless back safely and patted the little terror before he left it. It had been a quiet walk back and he had nodded absently to the villagers who greeted him as he wandered down to the forge. He had meant to do some work for Gobber but the revelation he had learned that day-as well as the exhilarating flight-were all still rolling around in his head and he found himself in his little workroom, slumped over his table, rolling his charcoal pen back and forth and staring at the wall. He sighed. And then he heard steps and groaned.

"What can I do for you, G…" he began then looked up as his father squeezed his huge bulk through the narrow door. He shot to his feet, his eyes wide and body tense. His breathing accelerated and he wondered if it was normal that a fourteen year old boy should be terrified at the sight of his own father. But then, the last time he had seen his father, it had been as Hiccup was sprawled on the floor of their home, his cheek burning from the slaps and heart aching from another conversation where Stoick the Vast had told his son what a waste of skin he was.

"D-Dad…you're back!" he yelped, backing away. Instinctively, he shoved his sketches and blueprints back, trying to conceal them from his father. If he was ever found inventing, he knew he would be in serious trouble. Beating/jail/exile type serious, he guessed. "G-G-Gobber's not here, so…" he said hastily, hoping that Stock would go in search of his friend. The next words crushed his hope.

"I know," Stoick growled, looming over his son. Hiccup backed up again. "I came looking for you." Hiccup tried to push his drawings back.

"You-you did?" Hiccup asked in a shocked voice. Stock usually ignored him. He wracked his brain over what he could have done to earn a beating from his father but it had to be something. He flipped his notebook closed, closed his eyes and hunched up, waiting for the first blow.

"You've been keeping secrets!" Stock growled, walking closer. Hiccup tensed even more, his eyes still screwed shut.

"I-er-I have?" he breathed. Now he was really for it!

"How long did you think you could hide it from me?" Stoick demanded. Hiccup opened his eyes warily and stared up at his father. He looked as grim as ever. And Hiccup had no clue what his father knew.

"I-I don't know what you…" he began, his voice shaking. He was looking weak and scared-things his father hated. There was no way this would end well.

"NOTHING happens on the island without me hearing about it!" Stoick told him sternly. The boy swallowed and was so alarmed his dropped his journal.

"Oh?"

So," Stoick growled, towering above his son, "let's talk about that dragon!"

And he was dead!

Hiccup sagged and his eyes were filled with utter despair. "Oh, gods," he said quietly. "Dad-I'm so sorry. I was going to tell you, I just didn't know how to…er…"

And then Stoick began to chuckle, then laugh. Hiccup stared at him, his brain numb and heart pounding so loudly he though his father would hear. Hiccup managed to force himself to frame a nervous laugh.

"You-you're not…upset?" he asked in mild astonishment.

"What?" Stoick asked him jovially. "I was hoping for this!" Hiccup stared at him and a nasty suspicion arose that his father might not be talking about the same dragon. He backed off another small step.

"You-you were?" he asked suspiciously. His father stood proudly over his son, his eyes sparkling with pride and even his limp right arm not seeming such a handicap.

"Yes!" he said. His face was more animated than Hiccup had seen-well, animated in the right way-for many years. He recalled his smile and feeling safe and happy when he was very small but for the longest time, all he had met was disappointment and anger. Stock dragged up a chair and sat down. "Just wait until you spill a Nadder's guts for the first time! Or mount your first Gronckle head on a spear! What a feeling!" Hiccup just managed to suppress a shudder: he wouldn't be doing any of those-ever. But the next words were worse. Stock gave him a friendly pat that threw him across the workroom and sprawled him across a chair.

"You really had me going there, son!" Stock carried on. "All those years of the worst Viking that Berk has ever seen. Odin, it was rough!" And he turned his eyes up to the ceiling and raise this hands in acknowledgement. "I almost gave up on you! And all the while you were holding out on me!" Hiccup stiffened. He wasn't and hadn't been. "Oh, Thor almighty! With you doing so well in the ring, we finally have something to talk about!" And then he faced Hiccup with a hopeful expression on his face.

Hiccup felt dreadful. Finally, he had made his father enormously proud of his new-found prowess in the killing ring but he clearly expected his son to follow through and actually kill some dragons. He guessed his father was envisaging father-son dragon hunting trips that Hiccup could only guess would be living nightmares. And it was obvious Stoick was now expecting him to come top. While everything that had happened-especially today-had just reinforced Hiccup's knowledge that he would never be able to kill a dragon. And when he failed…

The other words were familiar and yet, in this context, even worse. The worst Viking ever in Berk. Three hundred years, seven generations and he still managed to come last. And his father had told him as if it was supposed to cheer him up! But Stoick looked proud and the boy felt something he had been searching for his entire life-and with it came raw fear. Because, now more than ever, he knew he was going to screw it up. His father had some pride in his son-a treacherous, fragile emotion that could be so easily shattered. And if he found out about Toothless, Hiccup would lose his dragon, his father and his life.

His palms were sweating.

_And he could think of nothing to say._

After a few awkward moments, Stoick reached behind him and lifted a helmet. It was tradition for a Viking father to give his son a helmet when he reached fourteen-but Stoick had never bothered, because his son had been such crashing disappointment that he hadn't deserved one. Until now. His father's expression was almost kind as he proffered the gift. "Here-I brought you something," he said self-consciously. "To keep you safe. In the ring." It was the mirror of the one the Chief wore himself. Hiccup accepted it with a slight smile, his thin face lifted with joy.

"Wow," he said softly and inspected it carefully. It was beautifully made-one of Gobber's best, if he was any judge. "Th-thanks," he added.

"Your mother would have wanted you to have it," the Chief continued and the boy lifted his eyes to inspect the Chief's face. His mother had died when he was a baby, taken by a dragon protecting baby Hiccup in the crib. Hiccup had no memories of her, nothing at all except the taunts of the other kids who all had mothers and the aching sorrow when he saw them hug their mothers, received gifts from their mothers or spend time with their family. His had been shattered long ago and with the Chief for a father, the absence of a mother meant he really had almost nothing. And Stoick refused to talk about his mother…Valka…her name had been Valka. Gobber had told him that. Now his father was going to tell him something more.

"It's half of her breastplate," he said and tapped his helmet. "Keeps-keeps her close, you know?" Hiccup quickly took his hand off the helmet and then stared at his father. He had never really known how much his father missed his mother-until now. Stoick was just too stoic. And Hiccup was feeling really disorientated, going from being ignored and torn a strip off every time he saw his father to having a father-son conversation. Stock lifted his chin. "Wear it proudly," the Chief told his son. "You deserve it. You kept up your end of the deal."

Hiccup stared up into the big face and felt sick. He hadn't, of course. He had lied to everyone-and was lying to his father now. He almost-almost-tried to tell his father the truth but then he knew that would only end in disaster. He needed to plan. Carefully, he laid the helmet down on the desk and feigned a huge yawn.

"I should really get to bed!" he yawned, stretching his arms and trying to look tired. It wasn't difficult. His long days and late nights had taken their toll on the boy and he looked exhausted. Stock rose slowly to his feet.

"Yes-ok-good talk!" The Chief was happy to leave. Even with the boy's success, he was still awkward and not really a normal viking. Stock still saw the disappointing runt, sprawled at his feet, his face streaked with tears after his latest mess up.

"I-I'll see you back at the house," Hiccup said quickly. "Thanks for stopping by…"

"Yes, I hope you like the…"

"Yeah…thanks for the…breast hat…" Hiccup found himself saying and cringed. A few weeks back, that would cost him a vicious slap for his cheek. But Stoick was already busy with the difficult process of manoeuvring his bulky shape out of the tiny cramped room and tight door.

"Goodnight!" Stock said and left. Hiccup sagged, hearing the Chief trip over a pile of armour just outside the door, curse floridly and leave. He collapsed onto his chair. He was trembling, wracked by guilt and his head was spinning with the utter weirdness of having a father-son conversation after fourteen years of nothing. He pressed his face into his hands. He loved his father-he really did-but he feared him almost as much and knew that he was reaching the crunch point. Either he gave up Toothless or he broke his father's heart.


	15. Chapter Fifteen

**Fifteen.**

He knew it was mad and dangerous and he really should be concentrating on finding a way out of his dilemma but here he was, trotting throughout the dangerous night-time forest heading for the cove. The return of his father had caught him by surprise but he knew, after being described as the Worst Viking in Berk, that he wouldn't carry on being the worst son in Berk. And that meant seeing if he could help his Dad.

There were a lot of unnerving noises, ranging from twigs cracking to the definite slither of scaly bodies over the mossy earth and Hiccup sped up. His pockets were stuffed with dragon nip but he doubted that would be sufficient against an enraged Monstrous Nightmare and frankly, he didn't want to test it. His belt knife would do little but provide an attacking dragon with a little roughage.

He almost laughed with relief as he made the cove and dived in, finding Toothless hanging upside down from a huge tree root. The dragon cracked open a weary green eye as he approached and sniffed: he could usually tell when his little Viking was unhappy or hurt. But he just smelled…worried. He slithered to the ground and nuzzled the boy, feeling the skinny arms tighten gratefully around his head.

"Hey, bud," he murmured. "I don't want to weird you out or anything but I have a plan and I really need your help…" He lifted the object he had been carrying: a small earthenware flask. "I…er…need your drool," he said.

Toothless sat back on his haunches and tilted his head, his pupils wide and benign, watching Hiccup walk back and forth, explaining his plan. His skinny shoulders moved up and down and his hands were in almost constant motion. The dragon wondered if he would be able to speak without them. He decided to have a try when they next played. But Toothless loved his little Viking and would help him, if he could.

"…so I really need your saliva to put in Dad's mead to see if it can make him any better," Hiccup finished, turning to look at the dragon. "I-I know it's strange with how badly he's treated me but he's my Dad. And I know he's been a really bad father but I love him. And it's my fault he was hurt. If I can make him better in any way, I gotta try."

His wide green gaze was hopeful and pleading, a look Toothless couldn't resist. So when Hiccup approached him and extended his hand, the dragon opened his mouth and licked away, almost filling the small flask with his saliva. Hiccup carefully stoppered it-and then had to endure a thorough licking for waking the dragon. He gave a small laugh and hugged the dragon as Toothless nuzzled him carefully all over. Then the dragon walked back to a bare patch of earth, fired it to warm it up and curled up.

"Thanks, bud!" Hiccup called and looked helplessly at his saliva-drenched self then started making his way back to the village. This time, he heard nothing, saw nothing. He had been so strongly scent-marked by the Night Fury that every other creature on Berk was scrambling to get away from Hiccup. Oblivious, the boy trotted happily back to his home. And then he paused at the door, taking a deep breath and then sliding in.

The fire was dying down and he automatically fed the flames, then quietly made his way to the mead Stoick kept and poured the saliva in, agitating the pitcher to ensure it was well mixed. Then, with a silent prayer to Thor and Odin, he poured his father a mug. He walked to where the big man was dozing in his chair and gently shook him awake.

A huge hand clamped round his throat and Stoick swung upright in an instant, his useless hand swinging in search of an axe. "DAD! IT'S ME! IT'S HICCUP YOUR SON! PLEASE DON'T KILL ME!" he shouted as Stoick finally woke up, releasing him. Staggering back, choking, the boy looked up in trepidation but then lifted the mug. "S-sorry…I-I brought you a mead before bed," he stammered, unnerved. The Chief's eyes narrowed but he relaxed and graciously accepted the drink, draining it in one long draught. "More?" Hiccup asked hopefully.

"What have you done wrong, son?" Stoick asked him. Hiccup sagged.

"I'm trying to thank you for the helmet," he protested, "though apparently I do everything wrong by breathing…" His tone had dropped to a faint protest but the Chief clapped him on the shoulder.

"I'm sorry, lad," he said. "I would love another." With a sigh, Hiccup shook himself and brought his father another generous portion. The Chief finished it as quickly as the first, tousled his son's hair and made his unsteady way to bed. Hiccup stared after him. He had done all he could

oOo

He was no nearer to finding any possible solution to his other problem-apart from killing himself-when the final testing took place. The two leading candidates-Hiccup and Astrid-were fighting the Gronckle for the top place in class and the right to kill the Monstrous Nightmare. Of course, half the village was in the stands-including his father and the Elder.

The arena was laid out with a series of staggered wooden panels, laid out like windbreaks. The two students were expected to use them for cover as they sneaked up on the Gronckle and took the beast down. Hiccup stared up at the cheering vikings. I bet they hope for a kill, he thought sourly through the butterflies swarming in his stomach. He was crouching behind a panel as the Gronckle circled by him. Astrid landed by him, her expression really angry. Her axe was clamped in her hand and her eyes were filled with rage that had him cringing. He gave her a wan smile as she scowled back.

"Stay outta my way!" she snapped. "I'm winning this thing!"

"Good. Please. By all means!" Hiccup replied hastily, recoiling from her. He wasn't sure she wouldn't just swat him aside. Even though he now looked a little like a proper viking-from a distance-he really wasn't one. He was clutching his shield and his axe and he was dutifully wearing the hat his father had given him, though it was a little loose and tended to slip slightly. And he really, truly meant what he was saying: he really didn't want to win. Let Astrid have the glory and face the Monstrous Nightmare. It may be enough of a distraction to allow him to escape from Berk and…never return.

Astrid glared at him and dived athletically away as Hiccup peeked timidly over the panel and saw his father looking down proudly on him. He managed a wan smile before ducking down, a weary expression on his face. He was praying Astrid would get to the dragon before it came for him. The two students were expected to use the panels for cover as they sneaked up on the dragon and top marks were to be awarded for speed, agility and skill.

_May as well hand them to Astrid now,_  Hiccup thought when the rules were explained. _I'm none of them anyway._

Astrid was dodging, flipping and ducking behind the panels, her form excellent. She was stalking the Gronckle with great skill-but Hiccup watched with weary resignation as the dragon dodged its way through the course and headed straight for him.

Oblivious, Astrid dodged from panel to panel, every motion poised and accurate. Her axe was hefted in her hand and she was determined NOT to lose. "This time-this time-for sure!" she promised herself fiercely and she erupted from behind the panel, her axe raised to swat the Gronckle aside. But as she rounded the panel with a true Viking roar, she found the Gronckle lying on its side, a hind leg gently pawing the air as it moaned in ecstasy. Behind it, Hiccup was cringing away before straightening up and looking really embarrassed and apologetic. The crowd were cheering and Astrid threw her axe down in fury.

"NO!" she shouted. "Son of a half-troll- _NOT AGAIN!"_

Hiccup stared at the incapacitated Gronckle and sighed. It had come at him quickly and he had dropped his axe and shield in fear. But as it had closed, he was able to reach out, as if wrestling the heavy dragon, and he had skilfully scratched it into submission. He had back-pedalled immediately in shock but his reaction had been instinctive: he had won and angered Astrid beyond all reason. If she got her hands on him, he was literally dead. He sighed as he walked away from the drooling dragon and the raging Astrid.

"So…later," he said, heading swiftly for the exit but today, Gobber unceremoniously lifted the boy by his collar and plonked him firmly back in place.

"Not so fast!" Gobber told him.

"Wait! Wait!" Stoick called out from above.

"But I'm kinda late for…" Hiccup began but Astrid advanced on him and jabbed her axe hard under this chin, forcing him backwards. He didn't even dare breathe and his eyes widened in fear.

"WHAT?" she shouted. "Late for what, exactly?"

"Okay-quiet down!" Stock commanded from the stands. "The Elder has decided." Gothi, who had seen countless graduating Dragon Training Classes and at least three full generations of Vikings, walked forward, leaning hard on her staff. Gobber pulled Hiccup to his right and Astrid to his left and faced the Elder for the final judgement on his class. Hiccup warily felt his throat, breathing hard.

Gobber indicated to Astrid first and the Elder paused, then gave a slight shake of her head. Astrid looked furious but restrained herself: the Viking way meant respect for one's elders-no matter how wrong a decision they made. Then Gobber pointed to Hiccup and the crone gave a slight inclination of her head, smiled and pointed to him as the winner.

Hiccup winced in despair and then tried to look as of he was pleased. He failed hopelessly but Gobber didn't appear to notice, shouting "You've done it!" in a very excited voice. "You've done it! You get to kill the dragon!"

Astrid gave him a look that would freeze a troll in its tracks and Hiccup fingered his throat once more.

Shocked by the raw, deadly anger in her gaze-anger he had seen once before, in those horrific minutes behind him home as she had pounded him into the mud-he found he couldn't say anything but it didn't matter, because the others made more than enough noise. He was surrounded by a blizzard of congratulations, whoops and pats. Those were problematic because he was flinching like a slave as his instincts made him curl from them, expecting punches and kicks. Then Fishlegs easily hefted the slight shape onto his shoulders for a victory celebration. Snotlout and Tuffnut were punching the air and even his father joined in.

"That's my boy!" he bellowed with enormous pride in his voice. Perhaps the only time he had ever been able to proclaim his happiness that Hiccup was his son. Hiccup felt sick and gave a sigh. He knew he had to say something. But all he could muster was an amazingly unenthusiastic:

"Yeah, great-I can't wait!"


	16. Chapter Sixteen

**Sixteen.**

"We're leaving!" he announced to Toothless as he arrived in a very sunny cove later that afternoon. He was miserably carrying a basket that contained everything he valued-and that was a pretty poor showing. A couple of spare tunics and leggings, his journals, a few medical supplies, some jerky and a canteen of water: not much to show for fourteen years as the son of the Chief of Berk. It had taken far longer than he had anticipated to get away and sneak out of the village without being mobbed: it seemed word of his triumph had got out. He was just grateful he had left Toothless saddled and harnessed from the previous afternoon. He glanced nostalgically around the cove: it was one of the happiest places he could recall.

"Let's pack up!" he called to the dragon. "Looks like you and me are taking a vacation." He scanned his green gaze over the cove: he couldn't see the dragon anywhere. "Forever," he finished miserably, dumping the basket down and wearily adjusting his flight vest.

The scrape of a whetstone on metal had him scrambling backwards in shock. Astrid was sitting on the rock just above him, sharpening her axe. He felt his throat constrict and his palms go sweaty with fear. She had found him. Oh gods, that was it. She would kill him. Or Toothless. Or just call his Dad and he would kill them both. _Oh Gods..._

"What the…er…what are you doing here?" he asked her, trying to appear calm. He wasn't and she could tell. She knew everything about his miserable life.

"I just want to know what's going on," she told him mildly, though her eyes were furious. She jumped down and began to advance on him. "No one gets as good as you do!" she menaced. Hiccup couldn't take his eye off the axe. he really really regretted making and repairing it now. Love does stupid things. Astrid was taller than him and he knew from bitter experience that she was far stronger, with a punch that rivalled Snotlout. She was definitely a much better fighter. He felt himself begin to tremble. "Especially you!" she sneered. She punched him in the chest and he grunted in pain, whimpering a little as he backed off, unsure what she was going to do. He swallowed and stared up with fearful eyes, treacherous memories of that awful night rearing up. "Start talking!"

"Er…er…I…" Hiccup stammered. She continued to drive him backwards, a handful of slaps and punches keeping him moving when he startled until she closed to a few inches and rested her axe very worryingly against his arm. He froze, his eyes pleading.

"Are you training with someone?" she demanded.

"Training?" he whimpered, backing away again.

"It better not involve…this!" she sneered, grabbing his riding vest and hauling him easily off his feet. He stared into her eyes and read only hatred. There was nothing there to appeal to, nothing of the girl he loved.

"I-I know it looks really bad but you see…" he tried, attempting to manoeuvre her away from Toothless's favourite napping spot. The crack of a twig sounded and she punched him aside, tossing him to the floor as if he was nothing, kicking him brutally and treading on him as she walked over him. His pained cries sounded in the cove but he clutched at his middle and scrambled bravely to his feet.

"You're right, you're right!" he shouted, trying to distract her away from the noise. He ran forward and tried to intercept her. "I-I'm through with the lies! I-I'm making…outfits! So you've got me," he said, offering himself up to shame and ridicule. His father would probably exile him just for that alone. "It's time everyone knew…" He tried to restrain her, hoping to distract her with the prospect of letting her beat him up. It was terrifying but the only thing he could do to protect his dragon. "Drag me back. Go ahead!" He steeled himself. Go ahead. This is for you, bud.

But she instantly snapped his wrist back and forced him to the floor with another pained cry. "Ow! Why would you do that?" he pleaded painfully. He tried to get up but she kicked him hard as he was down.

"That's for the lies!" she shouted and kicked him again, then bounced her axe on his stomach to slam the air out of the skinny body. He exhaled with a whoosh and twitched in pain. "And that's for everything else!" she added. Hiccup rolled over, wincing and struggling to breathe as Toothless appeared and growled. Hiccup scrambled to his feet and stood behind Astrid as she gaped in amazement and shock at the Night Fury. He was discovered. Then she dived at him and threw him to the ground. She knew he couldn't hope to fight off a dragon.

"Get down!" she shouted. Toothless was accelerating towards her, thinking that Hiccup was being attacked-which he sort of was. She rolled to her feet, shouting "RUN! RUN!" to Hiccup before swinging her axe to attack the leaping Night Fury. But Hiccup was up as well and did the one thing that Astrid never expected. He wrestled her axe from her hand and threw her back, then leapt between Astrid and Toothless, fearlessly facing the dragon and raising his hands to ward it off her.

"It's okay," he said firmly to the dragon, his tone calm and even. Then he turned to Astrid. "It's okay," he repeated her her. Toothless was still rearing on his hind legs above Hiccup and the boy swiftly turned his attention back to the angry Night Fury. He kept his hands up, palms toward the dragon and continued to speak gently and calmly. "She's a friend," he insisted gently. His green eyes showed no fear, no hesitation, just certainty. This certainly wasn't how he envisaged being found out, he thought fleetingly. I expected more axes and flames…but there's still time…

Slowly, Toothless calmed down and dropped to all four paws, still growling at Astrid as she clambered to her feet. He knew her scent. She was one of the others who had beaten his Viking so badly. The scent associated with more sadness than anything else. But Hiccup was saying she was a friend. He pressed his hands onto Toothless's head and tried to calm him down for the dragon was still half-heartedly thing to get at the girl. "You scared him," he told her. She stared at him, her eyes wide with shock.

"I scared HIM?" she shouted at him. Her voice was incredulous: so this was his his secret. And then it struck her: he was restraining the dragon gently with his hands and voice. He had no weapon! "Who-who is HIM?" she asked, her voice uncertain. He sighed: this was the moment he had been dreading. He took a small pace forward.

"Astrid-Toothless." Then he turned to the dragon. "Toothless-Astrid." The dragon growled, showing his teeth. His eyes were narrowed: he had seen her treatment of Hiccup before he had broken cover and he hadn't liked it. And she smelled of his wounds, that horrible night when he had crawled into the cove, wracked with pain and beaten badly. Astrid shook her head slightly, stared at Hiccup as if he had grown a second head and then turned and ran.

"Da da-da, we're dead!" Hiccup said, feeling the surge of despair. Somewhere, there had been a tiny flicker of hope that she would listen to him, understand why he had chosen the side he did. But Astrid's expression had been utterly horrified: there was no possibility she would budge. She was Astrid Hofferson: strong, determined, brave, thoroughly Viking. It was lost: he should go.

Then he looked around. Toothless turned and trundled back to where he had come from. Hiccup stared after his dragon. "Whoa, whoa-where do you think you're going?" he asked, going after him.

oOo

Astrid was running through the forest as fast as she could, her mind in turmoil. She could not believe what she had seen. Hiccup's obvious familiarity with the dragon explained all his feats in the dragon training classes but to a true Viking like Astrid, it was an unthinkable betrayal of the Viking way of life.

Dragons were the enemy. Dragons must be killed. Not…turned into pets!

She felt her heart curl in fury. She had felt sorry for Hiccup once, almost wanted to protect him. Her father could not have been more wrong. He wasn't useless: he was dangerous! He was subversive. His lies had stolen her victory: his treason would destroy the village. Her duty was to fetch the village and then come back to slay the dragon. And, if in the process, she disgraced Hiccup and was named champion, then so be it. He had betrayed everything that three hundred years of Hooligans stood for.

He had sided with the monsters who had crippled her father and killed her beloved Uncle. And she felt her eyes burn with tears of rage and betrayal. How could she have ever thought he was her friend, ever considered becoming his friend again? She swatted tears of rage from her face. She had her duty and by the gods, she would end this. He could never catch her! So when she suddenly felt something grab her shoulders and lift her from the ground, she was seized by panic.

She screamed as the ground fell away and the leathery flapping of dragon wings filled her ears. "Great Odin's beard-aaagh!" The dragon had caught her: he was going to carry her away to rend her apart, to eat her…

"Easy, bud," came a soft voice from overhead and her rage redoubled. "Hold her tight, Toothless. You mustn't let her fall, bud. Yes, I know what she did to me but I can't let you hurt her. You gotta keep her safe..."

HICCUP! That…traitor and his pet monster had her! She continued screaming until Toothless dropped her at the top of the tallest conifer in the forest, then circled round and landed on the rather narrow perch. The tree almost bend in half as Astrid dangled over the drop. She was glaring daggers at him, her sweaty hands sliding on the smooth bark of the slender branch that was all that stood between her and a hundred foot drop.

"HICCUP! You have to get me down from here!" she shouted angrily. He flinched. He was terrified of her and yet...and yet he had to try this one last time. This was his last-his only-attempt at explaining the truth about dragons. If it failed, he would know it was hopeless. Because he knew that she understood him more than anyone else.

"You have to give me a chance to explain!" he begged her. She tried to inch along the branch towards the trunk. Her hands slipped and he felt his breath freeze for a second.

"I am NOT listening to ANYTHING you have to say!" she raged, trying to find something to rest her feet on. This was the most unclimbable tree in the forest, gods damn it!

"Then I won't speak," he promised as she inched towards them, his eyes desperate. "Just let me show you." She glanced down at the long drop and the unscaleable trunk and then back at Hiccup. His green eyes were wide with the same pleading look she had seen that awful night when she had wronged him. "Please, Astrid," he said quietly. Still angry but seeing no other way down, she pulled herself up and tried to grab a hold on Toothless, but he growled at her. Hiccup offered her his hand and she swatted it aside angrily, the slap loud in the tense atmosphere. She scrambled on and sat behind him, rigid and carefully not touching any part of him, as if he was diseased-or cursed. Toothless glared and a low growl vibrated in his throat: he still hadn't forgiven her for Hiccup's wounds, for the sobbing, pain-wracked and fever-stricken boy who had barely made it to his friend in the cove.

"Now-get me down!" she snapped. Hiccup cringed inwardly. That wasn't the voice of someone who would listen-but, on the bright side, she had dropped her axe so he wasn't in imminent danger of death.

"Toothless." he said gently, stroking the dragon's head soothingly. "Down. Gently." The dragon unfurled his wings and paused, allowing the breeze under the wings to catch and gently buoy them up before he took off. "See," said Hiccup brightly. "There's nothing to be afraid of…"

Then Toothless growled and leapt up into the air, his wings taking them in a dizzying climb. Both Astrid and Hiccup screamed in surprise, but while Astrid kept on screaming and almost lost her grip, Hiccup leaned forward. "TOOTHLESS! What is wrong with you? BAD DRAGON!" he yelled. Astrid was leaning back, her arms and legs flailing in utter terror. She had lost her seat and was sliding back, her weight distribution all wrong. Hiccup tightened his left hand on the saddle and managed to grab back with his right hand and find hers as she almost lost contact. Her hands clamped on his in desperation and then a leg snaked round his waist. He pulled her close and felt her warmth against his back, her arms clamp around his middle in a ferocious lock. Her scream echoed in his ears. Then Toothless reached the apex of his climb and levelled out.

"He's not usually like this," Hiccup explained as Astrid's arms tightened around him in fear. But Toothless wasn't done and if Hiccup wasn't going to let him crisp the girl who had beaten him, then he would make her as scared as Hiccup had been. And Toothless as well, at the thought of losing his little Viking. He folded his wings and they rolled away to the right, diving steeply down towards the distant sea. "Oh no," Hiccup groaned as they sped downward and fell from the sky. Toothless hit the water and rolled, skimming the surface and ducking them in again and again. "Toothless-what are you doing? We need her to like us!" the boy screamed at his dragon. But the Night Fury wasn't listening at all and flipped into another eye-watering climb before tossing himself himself into a dizzying barrel roll.

"And now the spinning," Hiccup commented wearily. "Thank you for nothing, you useless reptile!" Toothless threw them into a steep dive again, rolling almost uncontrollably. Astrid pressed herself as hard as she could against Hiccup and he could almost feel her heart hammering away in fear. She was now silent with terror-as he had been so many times in his life-and her death grip around him was almost stopping his breath. He knew it was closest he would ever get to a hug from her.

And, for the life of him, he was trying to understand why he was doing this. It wasn't about revenge-though he suspected it might be for Toothless-but why had he gone after her? He had been intent on leaving Berk, intent on saving his dragon and his own life and letting the village carry on without him. No one-except maybe Gobber-would miss him.

But this was Astrid, the girl of his dreams, his childhood friend and crush. The girl who had saved him from Snotlout. The girl who had almost beaten him half to death. The girl who was so consumed by rage and jealousy that she couldn't believe he could win the Dragon Training Classes. He should hate and despise her. He was still terrified of her. And he should leave her. And a tiny portion of him, the tiny little flicker of Hiccup that still held onto the hope of friendship, acceptance and love had forced him to give her this one last chance. If she didn't believe him, then he would put her in the cove safely and he and Toothless would be long gone before the villagers ever came to kill them. But if she could believe him...perhaps, just perhaps, he may have a future. And the future may possibly feel like this, with Astrid pressed against him, her head buried hard in his back as they flew.

It was his last dream, the final hope he had. He wasn't a bitter or vengeful person-he never had been. Everything that had been done to him made him sad and frightened but he never wanted vengeance. He had suffered so badly: why would he want anyone else to feel as bad as he had? He just wanted...to be normal. And that would never happen now-but she knew him. He had told her everything. She had betrayed him...but before, she had been his friend. If this failed, he had no dreams or hopes left: everything was gone.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" she shouted, her eyes pressed tightly closed. "Just get me off of this thing!"

Toothless glanced backwards: he had been waiting for the word. Of all the dragons, he understood the most Norse words and he knew the word 'sorry' all too well. In his opinion, every single Viking on Berk owed Hiccup the word but this yellow-haired violent female would do for starters. Especially since his little Viking-from the words he had spoken of her to Toothless over those hours they had spent and the pheromones the boy emitted-clearly loved her and wanted her as a mate. He would play along and see if she got the message-that she still lived only because of Hiccup's compassion and love.

So he spread his wings wide and they glided serenely up into the calmer, colder air, facing the perfect golden Berkian sunset over the sea. Hiccup glanced at the terrified Astrid and then pulled Toothless into a gentle climb up into the clouds as Astrid suddenly realised the terrifying ride had calmed. She opened her eyes hesitantly and gasped at the beauty of the view and the sudden wonder of the experience. Hiccup sneaked a look back at her and sat up, as Toothless took them on a smooth and calm glide through the clouds.

She couldn't help herself: Astrid was entranced by the view, the clouds now orange with the fading light of the sunset, the wind cold in her face. Hiccup caught her expression and managed a slight smile as well. He really really did want her to like him-he always had-and this might be his only shot at showing her he was not useless at everything. Her death grip on him had changed to a gentle, trusting embrace as she trailed her hands through clouds. Toothless took them on a long, beautiful flight through the end of the sunset and into the deep night, the auroras dancing purple and green overhead as Hiccup tried to fix every magic moment in his memory. If he had to leave Berk now, this was the one good memory he could carry with him.

He found himself telling her everything: how he had found out that he had shot Toothless down, how he had been unable to kill him and how the Night Fury had returned the favour. How he had helped the dragon and ended up learning to ride him-and in the process becoming an expert of dragons. And he finally told her his belief that they were wrong in everything they believed about dragons.

It was well into the night by the time he finished and they were swooping down towards the islands. The village was lit by torches and the harbour guards-the two fire towers shaped like the forefathers-were illuminated by their fires as they glided between them. Astrid wrapped her arms around him, a smile on her face as they swooped by their homes and Toothless began an easy climb past the cliffs to take them back to the cove.

"Alright, I admit it. This is pretty cool," Astrid said to him in a much gentler voice. "It's amazing. He's amazing." She reached forward and stroked Toothless's neck and the dragon quietly accepted her touch. Then she stared more closely at Hiccup.

"Thank you," he said quietly. "So you see? They cannot just be mindless beasts if they can be tamed. If they can be ridden." She sighed.

"No," she sighed.

"He was protecting me, you know," he added softly. "You threatened me-and he came to my rescue. I think you may have angered him." She swallowed.

"I get that," she admitted.

"I wasn't cheating," he added softly. "I observed. I played with him. I learned their weaknesses. And I learned they won't attack you if you don't threaten them. They can be overcome peacefully-and much more safely."

She sighed.

"It's not the Viking way," she told him.

"The Viking way is wrong," Hiccup said gently. "They raid us-and we fight them, attack them and kill them. They respond by flaming and rampaging, destroying houses and hurting people."

"So we just let them raid us?" she asked him incredulously. He shook his head.

"If we protected our stores and there was nothing easy for them to find, they would go elsewhere to find better food sources," he said. "Something makes them raid because wild dragons-Terrors, Nadders-don't mindlessly raid. They seek their own food for themselves. They try to avoid us." She stared at him and sighed heavily.

"No one will listen," she said.

"Because its me," he groaned.

"Because we have fought them for three hundred years and there is too much bitterness and anger to let go," she told him. "I-I see what you mean. Hiccup-Toothless is utterly amazing. But you can't take everyone on a ride after kidnapping them to change their minds. What about your Dad?"

He stiffened alarmingly and she tightened her grip on his body.

"Hiccup?"

"He won't listen unless he sees it with his own eyes," he said in a broken whisper. He shook his head. "Gods, this isn't going to work, is it?

"So what now? Hiccup-your final exam is tomorrow! You know you're going to have to kill a…!" She paused and dropped her voice. "Kill a dragon!"

"Don't remind me," the boy said miserably. "Why do you think I was in the cove, Astrid? I can't kill a dragon and all I could think of was leaving and letting you have the honour. Because if I go in there, I will definitely die and so will Toothless."

"Running never solves anything," Astrid quoted. "We are Vikings. We face our foes and we conquer. Come back with your shield or on in it!" Hiccup rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, that doesn't exactly work with a Monstrous Nightmare, if you think about it," he told her. "Hide behind your shield or find a dustpan and brush for the ashes is more like it!" His weary sarcasm had her smiling.

"But you would be exiled forever, shamed and reviled..." she argued.

"Um...what part of that aren't I already, Astrid?" he asked her sadly. "All I'm doing is making the choice for myself-and letting Toothless live. He-he's my only friend, Astrid. He's saved me more than I know. He's the only-and I mean only-reason why I'm still alive. No one else cares about me-including you. I beat you in Dragon Training and stole your victory. You beat me far worse in return. My father thinks I'm the worst Viking ever. Snotlout has already stolen my birthright and beats me up constantly. The others...well, I'm just Useless, aren't !? If I go, I'll be one less mouth to feed for the winter. And one less embarrassment for my father and my village."

Then Toothless pricked his eyes, narrowed his eyes and dived to his right, rapidly accelerating.

"Toothless-what's happening?" Hiccup asked worriedly. The dragon dived into the clouds, flapping his wings and ducking among the swirls of cloud. "Whoa-what is it?" His eyes were narrow with anxiety and there was a prickling at the edge of his mind, seductively tugging the dragon back to her cold embrace. But the small weight on his back and the gentle touch on his head kept the Night Fury focussed and aware. Very aware that they were in grave danger.

Then the roar of a dragon sounded to his left and Hiccup glanced up in alarm. The clouds thinned and suddenly they were surrounded by dragons! There were dozens of dragons all around and no matter which way Toothless turned, he was nudged back into place in the flight. All the dragons were carrying burden: sheep, yaks, fish, oxen. Hiccup suddenly realised that they were in the middle of a raiding party which was returning home. Berk had been attacked and they were being taken back to the nest.

"Get down!" Hiccup hissed and Astrid obeyed instantly, pressing herself down over Toothless's neck. Hiccup could feel her heart hammering through her chest almost as fast as his own. He knew they weren't welcome but Toothless hadn't found a way out: all they could do was to lay low and hope Toothless would get them away before they were spotted. The Night Fury tried to weave and duck away but every attempt was blocked by another snarling dragon. They were trapped in the middle of the flight.

"What's going on?" Astrid asked breathlessly.

"I don't know," Hiccup admitted quietly, starting to panic. "Toothless, you gotta get us out of here, bud." He gently stroked the dragon's head but Toothless shook his hand away and gave a low growl. Hiccup glanced around as dragons closed on them, surrounding them at a distance of a few feet only. "It looks like they're hauling in their kill," he said in a worried voice.

"What does that make us?" Astrid asked him anxiously. Hiccup had no reply, instead getting much more concerned as a Zippleback began to pay them rather closer attention that he liked. But as he was worried it may swoop in to attack, the dragons began to drop into a steep dive into the thick mists and Toothless followed. Suddenly, they found themselves in a maze of seastacks and eroded cliffs, dodging through the half-hidden gaps in an elegant dance that all the dragons followed unerringly. Hiccup was getting a horrible idea where they were: Helheim's Gate, where so many ships and Hooligans had been lost, searching for the nest. He was regretting picking up Astrid now: he had put her in danger.

Hiccup frowned as they swooped low to the sea and peered into the gloom. Ahead, a shape was beginning to coalesce, a tall conical mountain with orange lava streaming in narrow ribbons down its flanks: an active volcano. Astrid's grip tightened on him as they closed on the mountain-and then dived in through an open cave, a disused vent into the very heart of the mountain. The passage stretched back into the island and the dragons did not slow at all, swooping along the dim passages towards a dull red glow that grew brighter as they closed. The warmth increased too until it became pervasive and then they emerged into a gigantic chamber, the base swathed in roiling gases that shimmered with the heat of the heart of the volcano. Columns of solidified lava rose from the roiling gases and the heat was terrible. And there were dragons perched everywhere.

The raiding dragons flew over the centre of the cavern, dumping their loads with cries of varying ferocity. Toothless glanced down nervously and kept high above the gases. Hiccup glanced around the Nest-for that was what it was-and murmured. "What my Dad wouldn't give to find this!" More and more food was dropped into the depths but Toothless swooped up high and circled away from the drop zone, landing behind a rocky outcrop and concealing the Night Fury and his passengers from whatever lurked in the depths. He was afraid.

"Oh, it's satisfying to know all of our food is being dumped down a hole!" Hiccup remarked dryly. There had been so many hungry days and nights after raids, so many people had subsequently succumbed to hunger-young and old and weak. Old warriors and babes in arms. All to see the life-giving food thrown away.

"They're not eating any of it," Astrid added in a puzzled voice. Then they saw a small Gronckle flitter in after the others. It wasn't carrying any cargo. As they watched, it managed to regurgitate a small fish down the hole and paused, seeming satisfied. He made to fly on but without warning, the most enormous head and neck rose from the mists and swallowed the Gronckle whole! All the other dragons withdrew as far from the edges of their perches that they could manage and both the watchers recoiled in shock and fear.

"What was that?" Astrid breathed. Hiccup sat, open-mouthed for a long moment, then saw that the massive dragon's head had not vanished: it was still poking through the mists, pointing on their direction and was sniffing loudly. It's six red small eyes were peering in the gloom but it could smell them. He leaned close to Toothless.

"OK, bud-we gotta get out of here," he said urgently to the Night Fury. The head turned in their direction. "Now!" Toothless jumped as the monster snapped and the teeth missed them by inches. Toothless zoomed up through the passage to the outside as hundreds of startled dragons followed, sent on another mission by the rage of their Queen. But the huge dragon was not finished, hauling its body up out of the mists and snapping at the fleeing intruders again. An adult Zippleback was snapped up in one bite as the monster hauled its enormous body after the Night Fury that had escaped and the two tiny humans that had penetrated her nest.

Hanging on for dear life, praying to Thor and Odin and whoever else they could think of Hiccup and Astrid felt Toothless accelerate through the entrance and out into the cold night, heading back to Berk as fast as they could fly.


	17. Chapter Seventeen

**Seventeen.**

As they flew back, Astrid had chattered about the nest all the way, her excitement at the flight and the discovery heartening. She almost seemed to have forgotten she had been about to attack him with an axe or betray him to his father mere hours earlier. Hiccup had listened silently, still wrestling with the dilemma of what to do when they arrived back. He could see they were close and he gently leaned, his foot moving skilfully and sending the Night Fury in an extra, unwarranted lap round the island. Then he took a slow breath. There was something he had to ask before they landed-because he would never get this chance again. But he was very afraid of her reaction.

"Why do you hate me, Astrid?" he asked clearly.

He felt her body stiffen against him, the grip on his waist suddenly tight.

"I-I don't…" she stammered.

"Liar!" he accused her sharply, his eyes fixed on the dark coast of Berk. "You know I've had a crush on you, feelings for you ever since…for ever…because I told you. I could barely string a couple of words together when I talked to you!" She noted he was speaking calmly and clearly now and the implication suddenly hit her like a blow. "And when you came and rescued me from Snotlout and the twins, I thought…I hoped you may at least see me as something more than just a punchbag. You knew I wasn't completely useless because you know I made your axe. I felt a tiny-tiny-shred of hope. But then Dragon Training happened and somehow, your face filled with loathing and hatred that I had never seen previously. So what did I do, Astrid? Why did you decide to hate me?"

He could feel her silent for a long moment and the cold wind caressed his skin as he waited.

"You stole Dragon Training!" she said.

He gave a shocked laugh, his mind reeling. "Wh-what?" he gasped.

"Every time, you beat me," she said evenly.

"That's pathetic!" he snapped, knowing it wasn't even true. Not every time. "And believe me, I know pathetic. I'm practically the definition of pathetic! So the great Astrid Hofferson, the finest Shield Maiden in our generation, is jealous of Hiccup the Useless?"

"You had no right to…"

"You know, you're the only one who never congratulated me on succeeding?" he interrupted her. "Even Snotlout came up and hoisted me on his shoulders in the final class. They all cheered for me. They all said 'well done'. All but you. Are you so filled with hatred and-and jealousy that you can't even bring yourself to acknowledge the one time I haven't been a screw-up and shamed you?"

"I couldn't say something that's not true," she snapped. "It wasn't well done. It was a trick! You cheated in the class. Hell, I bet you were given all sort of extra training to ensure the precious Chief's son did well…"

"No!" he said abruptly, his voice sad. "Apart from the obvious-like when have I _ever_  been treated like I was worth a damn?-I didn't want to take Dragon Training. I was forced by my Dad-and you guys made me as welcome as you always did. I almost got killed in the first lesson! The only extra training I got was at the end of Snotlout's fists as he beat me up at the end of class. But I managed-somehow-to defeat some of the dragons. I could only try my best and do what I could because I was never taught anything. But I never pushed forward: I only got to face the dragons after you had tried-and failed. And what did you expect me to do? Let them _eat_  me just so you could have another unsuccessful attempt? My bad-I should have realised!"

"You were cheating! You had to be! You never used a weapon. You're too…weak!" But he was starting to feel the warm moisture on his shoulder than felt suspiciously like tears.

"Yeah. Toothpick. Got it," he replied sarcastically. "Did that in any way justify what you did, Astrid? Did your jealousy excuse you organising Snotlout and the twins to ambush me and beat me half to death? Did you get some kind of buzz when you punched me in the face, after you had heard my confession and knew how I felt? Did you see the plea in my face, read the hurt that the girl of my dreams, who I had loved for ever, was punching and kicking me into oblivion? Did you even think about what you had done when you left me lying unconscious in the mud?"

She buried her head in his shoulder and her tears soaked into his tunic. He could feel her shaking with sobs and though he was angry and disappointed in her, he still felt sorry for her.

"Did you ever think how much it _hurt_  to know you hated me as much as everyone else?" he whispered. She knew he wasn't talking about the physical pain now. His words from the shed echoed back and her entire body shook with shame and grief.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" she sobbed bitterly. "I-I felt so angry when you kept beating me. And because you never pushed yourself forward, never boasted and seemed so surprised whenever you defeated a dragon. You were almost scared of the attention."

He stared at the horizon for a long time. "Can you see why?" he asked her softly, gently patting Toothless. "He was the reason why I succeeded. I learned about dragons from him, about their weaknesses and strengths. I didn't want too many questions because I was scared…scared I would betray him."

"My…my family needed me to win Dragon Training," she confessed in a shamed voice. "You know we're poor. If I won Dragon Training, I would have enough honour and fame to make up for my father's injury…"

"So, because I won the final test when the Gronckle came at me, you came after me with an axe?" he asked her sarcastically. "What was I supposed to do, Astrid? Let the dragon kill me in front of my Dad and my village just so you could win? You were closer, you had the first shot…what could I do?"

"I knew you were hiding something!" she told him.

"Guess what? You were _right_!" he shouted. And then he sagged. He was exhausted by fighting for so long for acceptance and knowing all it had gotten him was this impossible situation. His voice was immeasurably sad when he continued. "I never wanted to win, Astrid. I was rooting for you as well! I can't kill dragons. Think about it: every defeat was peaceful. I couldn't harm another creature just to make a point, just to look good. But the Monstrous Nightmare is tricky, even for an experienced Dragon Fighter. If it's on fire, I won't get close enough to do anything and you will be able to watch me get killed. Won't that make you feel good? Useless _finally_  gets what he deserves!" The last words were sarcastic and wild, his anger and pain-with a side of fear-completely open to her.

Her hands gently tightened on his skinny waist before she wrapped her arms completely around him, enclosing him in her embrace.

"You're not useless," she said quietly, her voice thick from weeping. "You're amazing. You trained a Night Fury, Hiccup! You're the best Dragon Training has ever seen! And you learned to fly on a dragon! I mean-how cool is that?"

"And how long before the Elders and Snotlout get shown here and I get executed or exiled for betraying our traditions, Astrid?" he asked her sharply. He didn't trust her-that much was obvious-and he was scared she would take the chance to win after all.

"I-I wouldn't…" she said. He stiffened.

"Really?" The word oozed sarcasm. "So after you said all those things to me in that shed, the fact you then spent the time screaming at me, scowling at me and organising my beating isn't a betrayal?"

"I never told anyone what you said," she said stiffly. He screwed his eyes shut.

"Thanks," he whispered. Her arms tightened around his scrawny shape and she rested her head on his shoulder. She needed him to believe her now because she meant it. Hiccup wasn't an enemy: that huge monster in the mountain was the enemy, driving the attacks, stripping Berk bare to the very bedrock and demanding every last drop of Viking blood. That wasn't Hiccup and his actions had uncovered the secret that had been attacking them for three centuries. And if he could do that-weak, skinny, un-Viking-like Hiccup, then maybe he was the best hope for ending the war as well.

"I was horrible to you," she admitted. "And you never deserved it. Not from when we were children to now. All you did was hope for our friendship and try to fit in. You wanted to play and join in-and Snotlout just did what he always did and pushed you away-harshly. You were the same bright, kind, friendly boy I knew when I was small but the world changed around you and everyone treated you like dirt. And none of us were brave enough to go against that and stand by you. It was easier and safer to stick with the crowd and leave you to face it all alone."

"Thank you for summing that up," he said tonelessly. His innards had gone cold at the reminder. She nuzzled his neck.

"What I'm trying to say is that you were badly wronged-by me, by the village-by your Dad," she said. He sighed.

"Like I said, no news there," he forced himself to say. His eyes were burning and he had to blink hard.

"I want to make it up, Hiccup," she said softly. "I am your friend. I will stand by you, no matter what everyone else says."

"Yeah, that may be a short gig," he admitted. "If I get eaten tomorrow, no one will ever have to know!" She punched his shoulder and he yelped.

"Stop that!" she scolded him. "Hiccup-you are the best in our class. You are going to do great…" She tightened her grasp around him. "And I will stand by you tomorrow, Hiccup. Look, if you only believe one thing, believe this: there is no honour in betraying you. You are the chosen winner of the Elder. If I shame you, I shame her and all our traditions. I may end up fighting the Nightmare but I would make my family pariahs by that action because people would watch your thin little body broken as you are executed and they will remember that pathetic sight and blame me. And when Snotlout becomes Chief instead of you-when you should have won your birthright back-and before the tribe is utterly destroyed, they'll blame me!" Hiccup tried to process the words and circled them round the seastacks.

"So betraying me to the village will win Dragon Training and get me horribly executed but will end up just hurting you and the Tribe?" he summarised. "Why does that not fill me with confidence? Or trust?"

"It's all about honour, Hiccup," she told him sternly. "My family has lost honour when my Dad was injured. I have to win it back. Of course, you wouldn't have to worry about…"

"And there you go, assuming you know me," Hiccup said sadly. "My father is the most honourable Viking in the village, the great Chief who offered to stand down when he was injured. But his son has no honour at all. I am universally despised, I have no achievements, no friends and no prospects. I have already been stripped of my birthright, I am regularly beaten up by the other kids and when Snotlout becomes Chief, I am going to be absolutely slaughtered by him. Have your honour, Astrid. I have none."

"And yet, you are honourable," she murmured, tightening her arms around him. "Toothless could have killed me, right? In the cove, in the air, in the tree?" He nodded reluctantly. "But you didn't let him-and I could see he really wanted to. You never kill, do you?" There was the tiny, shamed shake of the head. "You wanted me to like you." He swallowed and went still.

"I've always wanted that," he said in a tight, cautious voice. "D-don't worry, Astrid. I know it's not possible…"

"You spared my life and you gave me an experience I could never even dream of," she told him, resting her chin on his shoulder again and making sure she was whispering in his ear. "Seeing you in the air, in the saddle shows me the Hiccup I never get to see elsewhere. You're not the village screw-up…you're a bold, clever and decisive man, a genius to create this tail and saddle! You thought about flying and made it happen! You gave me orders like a leader when we were caught in the raid and you planned our escape from the hive. That's the son of the Chief, the next leader that Berk needs!" The boy took a shuddering breath and she couldn't see the tears on his face at the words he could never have dreamed anyone would say. He swallowed.

"Th-thank you," he managed in the smallest voice possible. Toothless crooned and he patted the head in an effort to pull himself together. "You-you don't know how much that means to me…" he added. She hugged him harder, not feeling the wary stiffness in his body.

"I guess I do, from what you told me," she admitted, her tone gentle. "I know I am aggressive, Hiccup. I have had to be. I'm not as powerful as Snotlout or Fishlegs so I have to work and train hard to succeed. Just as you have worked hard and trained yourself to ride your dragon. But I can understand now why you did so well and why you kept avoiding us all. I-I just thought you considered yourself too good for us!"

He gave a small, shocked laugh.

"Too good?" he croaked. "Oh gods, how could anyone be so wrong? I'm never going to be good enough! Especially for you! And when everyone started to crowd around me, I just felt worse because I knew I wasn't good enough. I-I guessed it was all a trick, a cruel ploy to get me to relax and open up and then I just expected everyone to start laughing at me and tearing me apart again…" He took a shuddering breath. And she realised then how scarred he was, the wounds he bore from years of abuse and neglect. It made her feel even more ashamed. She sighed.

"Hiccup-I…I do like you," she assured him softly, wanting more than anything to try to get this beaten down boy to understand what he was-what she now saw him as. "I wasn't brave enough before but I am now. I'll be your friend…if you'll have me?"

He was silent. She feared she had said too much, that he could never forgive her. Not that she blamed him: she had been so cruel, so horrible especially the beating but he turned his head and she could see the tears on his pale skin.

"I forgive you," he said softly. "Of course. I would be honoured. It's all I ever wanted." And she gently raised a hand and wiped the tears from his face. He flinched and then smiled as well, trying to reassure her that he was okay with her touch. "I-I guess I'll have to learn that not every time someone touches me, it'll be a blow," he added flatly. She sighed.

"Oh, Hiccup," she said with pity in her voice. "I have to much to make up for. I should have stopped them so long ago. I should...I should never have hurt you." He gave a smile as they circled down towards the cove though he was still feeling really anxious. He had always wanted her to be his friend and yet...and yet he was still sacred of her. Hey, he was scared of almost everything. "But what are we going to do about the nest? I mean, I think I understand. It's like a hive and that thing's the Queen. She orders them to raid for her and they-the workers-do it!" They swooped round and touched down in the cove. She paused then slid off the dragon. He silently unclipped his lines and as he hit the ground, she wrapped her arms around him and he stiffened. "You're not alone," she reassured him.

He sighed. "Kinda feels like it sometimes," he admitted. "But why did they all obey her? I mean, Toothless got away and stayed away. And-and they were all terrified of her when she came at them. It seems crazy..."

"No, no-it totally makes perfect sense!" Astrid insisted, more confident now she was safely on the ground again. "It's exactly like a giant bee-hive. They're the workers and that's their Queen. It controls them! Somehow, she can command them and they have to obey!" She leapt forward, fired with purpose at the prospect of finally wiping out the dragon menace. "Let's tell your Dad…"

"No, NO!" Hiccup interrupted her quickly, running after her. He caught her arm and forced her to face him. "No-not yet!" he told her. "They'll kill Toothless! No, Astrid…we'll have to think this through. Carefully." His shoulders sagged and he began to walk back towards Toothless. She stared at him and still couldn't understand.

"Hiccup-we just discovered the dragons' nest!" Astrid told him. "The thing we've been after since Vikings first sailed here! And you wanna keep it a secret? To protect your pet dragon? Are you serious?" Her tone has risen and was shrill with disbelief. He turned back to face her and his expression was more determined than she had ever seen.

"Yes," he said. She gazed at him in astonishment and remembered what he had said, how much the dragon truly meant to him. He turned away to face Toothless and her expression softened slightly. He had shown her more in that flight than he had in the previous fourteen years of the amazing person he was. He wasn't a proper Viking-no one would argue with that-but he was brave, determined and incredible. And if he could find a way through this that didn't cost him his best friend, then she would help him. She promised to be his friend: this was the price.

"OK," she said more gently. "Then what do we do.?"

"Just give me until tomorrow," Hiccup asked her softly. "I'll figure something out." He began to unstrap his flying vest.

"OK," she said. "No running, though!" He caught her expressions she thought she saw a guilty flash in his green eyes. "For the love of..." she growled and he sighed.

"I know it's more important than just me, or I would go." he told her honestly. "If we had't gone to the Nest, I would be flying away, Astrid. You are right: no one else would believe me that dragons can be loyal, amazing creatures. No matter if you had believed me or not, I would have gone. And I'm taking a huge risk with Toothless because, for some reason only Odin knows, I still want to help the village that despises me to a man. To try to find some way to help them against that...thing. Because I am a Hooligan. My family have been Chiefs ever since we sailed to the wet heap of rocks. And because, no matter what they call me, I'm not Useless. I'm not a traitor. Or a coward. I know I have to find a way to stop the raids. That may save our lives-and theirs."

"I know," she said softly. He fiddled with his flight vest as she paused by him then punched him hard on the arm. He winced and grabbed the arm, the memories rising again. He could feel himself beginning to curl up in fear. "That's for kidnapping me!" she told him. He glanced at Toothless, who was unworried and shrugged. He had categorised her as a friend.

"Thanks a lot, useless reptile," he muttered under his breath, trying to calm his breathing .

Astrid paused for another moment, brushing her fringe off her face and thinking. Then she grabbed his arm, pulled his stiff and resisting form towards her and kissed him on the cheek. "That's-for everything else," she added, turning away and running back towards the village. Hiccup watched her go, a slight smile on his ashen face. He was still terrified and confused but from starting out fearing she would kill him, at least he had the tiniest shred of hope now. Toothless stood at his side and inspected him closely. Hiccup met the slightly puzzled expression.

"What're you looking at?" he asked the dragon who merely cooed at him happily. Finally, his little Viking had a human friend. Perhaps it would make Hiccup happier...


	18. Chapter Eighteen

**Eighteen.**

The entire village was at the arena the next morning, banners of the houses of former winners hanging from posts all around the arena. There was a roar of excitement and everyone was in a good mood: the graduation of a dragon training class was always something to be celebrated-especially this one, with the unexpected and astonishing identity of the winner. Stoick stood forward at the Chief's dais and looked across his people in a very good mood. He waved his hand to quieten them but nothing would calm this exuberant crowd who were so relieved for their beloved Chief so he raised his voice instead.

"Well, I can show my face in public again!" he bellowed cheerfully. There were laughs and cheers from the crowd and he accepted them in good grace. There were a few disgruntled faces-mainly among the Jorgensen and Hofferson families. This time, when he waved his hands, the ruckus quietened noticeably. "If someone had told me that in a few short weeks, Hiccup would go from…well, being Hiccup…" More laughs sounded, many of them still scornful. "…to placing first in dragon training, well, I would have tied him to a mast and shipped him off for fear he had gone mad!" More raucous laughter. Everyone understood the sentiment. "And you know it!" Stoick added to more cheers and laughs. He allowed them to laugh for a moment, then adjusted his helmet and quietened them again. "But…here we are!" he announced. "No one is more surprised-or more proud-than I am. Today, my boy becomes a Viking. Today, he becomes ONE OF US!"

The cheers and roars were raucous and good natured but to Hiccup, listening in the entrance tunnel to the arena, he heard the words with a sick feeling in his stomach. They reinforced every insult, every scornful laugh or action towards him over the years and he felt his hands tremble at the reminder. His father's words-actually relatively good-natured and expansive-had reiterated his utter scorn for his boy and his total lack of confidence in him. He could feel his heart fluttering in his chest and his breathing accelerating. And his palms were slick with sweat. He peered out nervously and he could see the villagers-his neighbours-all watching all around the arena and he knew now how much he was going to disappoint and shame Stoick. He wished he had been able to tell his father before but Stoick's enormous pride in his son had meant he could not bring himself to. He was afraid to. Now, he was out of time…and his only plan was hugely risky at best.

Then Astrid walked down the tunnel to stand just behind him and he felt a tiny flicker of hope. She had come, just as she promised. So if- _when_ -he died, he would die with a friend.

"Be careful with that dragon," she told him with concern.

"It's not the _dragon_  I'm worried about," he admitted, watching the Chief take his huge carven seat overlooking the arena. He knew Stoick would be the problem. Even if he succeeded, Stoick may take it very hard. Or probably won't listen at all. _He NEVER listens to me!_

"What are you going to do?" Astrid asked him, gently laying a hand on his and he glanced at her with a wince.

"Put an end to this," Hiccup said wearily. He took a deep breath. "I-I have to try." He turned back to face her and finally met her eyes. "Astrid, if something…goes _wrong_ …just make sure they don't find Toothless!" _Look after him-or set him free. Please._

"I will," she promised, eyeing him worriedly, "but promise me it won't go wrong!" He stared at her and was about to reply but Gobber rounded the corner and called him in.

"It's time, Hiccup," he said. "Knock 'em dead!" Looking like a man walking to his execution, Hiccup reluctantly walked forward, slowly pulling the helmet Stoick had given him onto his head. The gate slammed down behind him, cutting him off from any escape. A chorus of cheers and whoops sounded from overhead as he emerged, a small shape out on the pitted stone of the arena floor. He glanced up and saw every face filled with bloodlust and eagerness to see dragon blood spilled. He shuddered and forced his eyes down as he walked slowly forward. He slowly approached the weapons rack and Stoick sat back, watching his son closely. The Gronckle combat had been very brief and he was very interested in seeing his technique. Hiccup reluctantly grabbed a shield and then, almost as an afterthought, picked up a small dagger. He slowly turned to the centre of the arena, knowing whatever weapon he pulled wouldn't matter.

"I would have gone for the hammer," Stoick commented to Gobber, who had arrived at his side. Gobber did not comment that Hiccup could not even lift a hammer. Hiccup took a deep breath, raised his shield and glanced up.

"I'm ready," he said, his voice firmer than he had expected and then he turned to the pen door. The bar was carefully winched up and Hiccup tensed.

A flaming and enraged Monstrous Nightmare erupted from the door into the arena, roaring its anger and casting around for some target for its ire. But instead of immediately attacking the boy, it leapt for the walls of the arena, first looking for freedom. It ran around the walls, checking for any gaps and launched an enormous blast through the diving crowd and out to sea. But there was no escape, so it clambered on up, to the bars forming the domed roof over the arena and confirmed there was no escape in that direction either. Its eyes were narrowed and frightened, knowing from the other dragons that its release meant it was going to be killed. Only then did it drop to the floor of the arena, its eyes narrow as it focussed on the small shape there, clutching his shield and staring with wide eyes at the angry dragon. The crowd fell silent as the two combatants faced one another.

"Go on, Hiccup!" Stoick roared, both hands fisting. The dragon slowly advanced and Stoick added "Give it to him!"

_Not helping, Dad,_  Hiccup thought as he backed away, never taking his eyes from the Nightmare's face. It was scared, agitated and had tightly slitted pupils, the mark of a very angry dragon. But it wasn't on fire yet so he still had a chance.

Trust. It needs to trust me. Dressed as a Viking in an Viking dragon-killing arena surrounded by Vikings who want to spill its blood. Should be easy… He dropped the knife and shield and slowly lowered his hands, palm-first, towards the dragon's muzzle. The dragon continued to advance but its pace slowed. The little Viking facing him wasn't attacking and smelled of…dragon. Of NIGHT FURY. He paused and inspected the boy carefully. Stoick leaned forward, his eyes narrowing in puzzlement and the first stirrings of alarm.

"What is he doing?" he asked quietly. But Gobber was shaking his head as well, utterly befuddled.

The crowd were still baying for blood but there was a muted murmuring of surprise. This was a new tactic! Lure it in close, get it to lower its guard…and then CLOSE IN FOR THE KILL! Astrid leaned forward as well, watching Hiccup's actions and realising what he was trying to do.

"Hey, it's OK," he soothed the Nightmares, still backing away slowly, his hands a couple of feet from the muzzle. "It's OK…" The dragon continued to advance, puzzled as well. Then Hiccup reached up and pulled off his helmet. He held it in his hands for a second and cast a glance up at his father. "I'm not one of them," he said quietly but clearly. The clatter of the metal hitting the stone was loud in the sudden silence, the chorus of gasps passing through the crowd like a breeze. The dragon watched the helmet land then inspected the boy before him closely. His agitation subsided a little further. Stoick slowly got to his feet.

"Stop the fight!" he said. The moment of truth.

"NO" said Hiccup, "No, Dad-you need to see this. I need you all to see this!" He slowly inched closer to the Nightmare. "They're not what we think they are!" His hand inched closer. "We don't have to kill them!" There were murmurings among the crowd but Stoick's rage at the heresy overcame any other concern at his defenceless son, standing inches from a dragon. He leapt forward and slammed his hammer against the bars.

"I SAID STOP THE FIGHT!" he roared.

The impact of the hammer on metal broke the spell and the Monstrous Nightmare suddenly tensed, its pupils narrowing for battle and lunged at Hiccup. The boy dodged with a cry of fear and ran for it, barely missing a huge blast of fire aimed at him. He gave a despairing cry of terror as he ran for his life.

oOo

In the cove, Toothless was sleeping in the sun, curled up and safe. The faintest echo of the scream of fear reached his ears and he was immediately awake and alert. Hiccup was in mortal peril.

He had to get to him!

oOo

Ducking and running as fast as he could, Hiccup wished he had learnt a little more fighting in Dragon Training as opposed to just…dragon training… The Nightmare was faster, more agile and stronger than he was and in its enraged state, there was no prospect that he could ever train it. There really could only be one outcome in this uneven contest, the one he had guessed was most likely. He was going to die.

Up in the stands, Stoick saw his son in peril and shoved his way through the crowd. "Out of my way!" he shouted, all thoughts of weakness forgotten. He raised his right arm and shoved Ack aside as he sprinted down the steps towards the main entrance of the Arena. Even though his son had apparently won Dragon Training, he would have to save him again! Was there no limit to the boy's irresponsibility, disobedience and disgrace!

But Astrid was closer, in the tunnel and she saw the terrified Hiccup race by. "HICCUP!" she shouted in fear for his safety. Thinking fast, she grabbed an axe and levered the door up, then slid lithely underneath to join him in the arena. He was her friend and he was in peril. She couldn't leave him without doing everything to help-and she was a far better fighter than he was. She was his only hope now.

oOo

Toothless was also trying to get to Hiccup but the smooth, rocky walls of the cove foiled his attempts, as they had every day since he was shot from the sky. He could hear Hiccup's screams of fear clearly now and the danger impelled him on. He jumped for the narrow entrance that Hiccup had first used and made the ledge, then leapt for the lip, his talons digging into the stone and finally granting him the purchase he needed. He leapt for freedom, hit the ground and began galloping for the village. Every few steps, he glided a few yards but when his paws hit the mossy ground, he accelerated again.

He had promised himself he would look after his Viking. He couldn't let Hiccup die-even if it meant going into the village!

oOo

Hiccup dived under another blast and managed to grab a shield but the Nightmare demolished the weapons rack and tossed him onto his back. Stoick had reached one of the entrances and hauled the heavy metal gate up with his bare hands, running down the tunnel into the arena. The villagers were jeering at the dragon and staring at their Chief, who suddenly seemed back to his old, powerful self.

Astrid saw Hiccup racing for his life and danced forward, kicking up a hammer from the wrecked weapons rack and launching the weapon in an accurate throw that hit the dragon directly on the head. It was felled and stopped, buying Hiccup a few yards, then shook its head and rose, turning to face the new threat. It roared and started chasing her instead.

Stoick reached the arena and lifted the last gate, wrenching it up with his bare hands and beckoning to the two teens. "This way!" he shouted, beckoning urgently. Astrid raced for the entrance and Hiccup was a few yards behind her. The dragon rolled back to its feet and saw Astrid reach freedom. But as Hiccup almost made it to within touching distance of his father's outstretched hand, the dragon unleashed a truly monstrous burst of flame that melted the wall in front of him and had Stoick diving back for safety. Hiccup gave a cry of shock and threw himself back and tried to get away but the Nightmare had his measure now and slammed him to the floor, pinning him down with one huge, taloned paw. The dragon leaned over him, preparing for the kill and he cringed, expecting to die.

Then the high pitched whine filled the air, dopplering closer as the crowd glanced around nervously. They knew the sound and everyone suddenly ducked for cover as Toothless soared over the stands, exhaled a huge plasma blast that vaporised the bars of the roof and dived into the melee. People ducked for cover and the arena filed with smoke as the dark shape of the Night Fury appeared in the mists, rolling and fighting with the Monstrous Nightmare. The Nightmare was much larger but the Night Fury was unstoppable.

No horn-headed Nightmare was killing his Viking!

"Somebody get in there and help him!" Stoick shouted from the gloom, gesturing to his most powerful warriors. The Nightmare was ripped from its crouch over Hiccup and was dragged across the arena by the Night Fury. Toothless was ferocious, driving the creature back, rolling and biting as he protected his friend. Gobber peered through the smoke and voiced what everyone was thinking.

"Night Fury!" he exclaimed in astonishment. Toothless was gotten on his back by the Nightmare but he threw it off, snapping and biting. He backed away to stand guard between the cowering Hiccup and the other dragon and gave a furious roar. The Nightmare could still see his prey and wasn't at all keen to share, but Toothless steadfastly remained between the Nightmare and Hiccup, snapping and biting as he drove it off, again and again. The crowd were watching, open-mouthed, as the two dragons skirmished for Hiccup. Then with one final leap and roar, Hiccup watched the Monstrous Nightmare back away from Toothless and run back towards its cage, cowed and defeated. He scrambled to his feet and ran to the dragon urgently. His heart was in his mouth as he heard the Vikings roar as they approached.

"Right, Toothless- _get out of here!_ " he said, pushing the dragon towards the exit. Vikings began to spill from the stands, weapons clamped in their hands to finally defeat the legendary Night Fury. Hiccup pushed Toothless harder. "Go! _GO_!" he urged, desperately. He would be captured and killed. He couldn't lose his best friend. Bud, you should have let me die!

Stoick paused at the door, then grabbed an axe and ran towards the dragon. Hiccup glanced up in horror. "NO! Dad-he won't hurt you!" he shouted. Toothless stood ferociously between Hiccup and his father, his teeth bared and a growl vibrating through him. ANOTHER ATTACKER! And this one was the worst, his smell most often associated with Hiccup's sorrow and wounds. This was the scent Hiccup brought with him every day, his sire-and he had made the boy unhappiest of all. And he didn't deserve to live for all the harm he had done to the little Viking.

Hiccup felt the dragon tense to attack and felt hopelessness assault him. "Don't, don't, don't!" he shouted as Toothless jumped forward, his wings and tail deployed to swat Berkians aside as he tried to fight his way towards Stoick. To the Night Fury, the huge Chief was running forward to attack Hiccup and the dragon as still angry from the battle and the peril to his rider. And everything the man had done to his Viking.

"You'll only make it worse!" Hiccup cried despairingly. With a roar, the Night Fury leapt at Stoick, slamming the huge Viking to the ground and rearing over him, his teeth bared ready for the kill. Hiccup took a step forward and watched the dragon prepare to strike. "TOOTHLESS! STOP!" he called out but the dragon did not hear him, would not obey him. It was about to kill his father. "No! NOOOO!" he shouted desperately.

The dragon suddenly stopped and turned his head to stare at his master, his expression rebellious and not quite understanding.

He hurt you so much, my little Viking. He causes you so much sorrow. Why won't you let me kill him?

But he trusted Hiccup. He loved Hiccup. Then he lowered his head in obedience and met Hiccup's stricken expression. The boy knew it was hopeless now: Toothless could never get away. Stoick punched the dragon and more and more Vikings piled in, overwhelming the dragon and pressing his head down into the stone, jaws clamped shut and helpless. Hiccup desperately tried to get forward to help his friend. "No, no-please!" he begged. "Don't hurt him!"

Astrid held him back, fearing he would get hurt as he tried to help the dragon. "Hiccup!" she hissed. "Please-you can't help him now!" But he was moaning and fighting, his motions more desperate and weaker.

"Please…don't hurt him…" he begged. "Please-he's my _best friend._  Toothless…I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry…"

Toothless gave a despairing moan as he was held helpless and Stoick brushed off the eager hands that helped him to his feet. His eyes lingered on his disgrace of a son, the boy restrained by Astrid and still whining for his dragon. His eyes were only on the beast, not on the father who had nearly died at its hand. He had betrayed and humiliated Stoick beyond all possible redemption. This could not be forgiven. Then he glared at the dragon.

"Put it with the others," he growled. "I need to deal with my son."


	19. Chapter Nineteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Advisory: Physical abuse of a minor

**Nineteen.**

Hiccup was trembling, his gut roiling and heart hammering in his chest as his father dragged him up to the Great Hall. It was the only place they could speak away from the utter chaos in the village. His father's grip was bruisingly tight on his skinny arm and he could barely keep his feet. His father was moving fast, his arms swinging and the boy felt the tiniest sense of achievement that his gamble with Toothless's saliva had seemed to have worked. Stoick was functioning almost as he had prior to the disastrous attack and if nothing else, Hiccup had righted that wrong.

Then he was thrown through the door into the dim space and his father advanced on him, the sunlight outlining the man before he slammed the doors behind him. Hiccup backed up, his small shape hunched and anticipating a blow. Stoick was madder than he had seen, his face scarlet with rage and huge fists clenched. The boy swallowed again as his father approached and blinked fearfully.

Stoick's fist swung and the boy flew to the floor, clutching at his cheek. He was breathing hard and wondered if his father would let him live.

"I should have known!" Stock growled, advancing again towards the sprawled boy. Hiccup pushed himself up to his feet, his knees wobbling and he lifted his bruised face to face his Chief. "I should have seen the signs!" Hiccup took a hitching breath.

"Dad…" he began, not knowing how he could ever explain it and knowing that his father wouldn't listen anyway. This was his disappointing son, the embarrassment, the runt-and now a traitor. His eyes gave a mute appeal to his father, hoping against all hope that there was a shred of him left in this raging giant.

"WE HAD A DEAL!" Stock screamed and punched the boy again. Hiccup slammed to the ground and felt blood begin to trickle from his mouth. He painfully lifted his head and stared up. He was terrified but knew that this was his only chance to explain.

"I know!" he said quickly, a shaking hand wiping blood from his lip. "I-I know we did but that was before…" He got to his knees. "I…er…oh, it's all so messed up!" He pressed his face into his hands but Stoick was humiliated beyond words and utterly uncomprehending. He could never understand how his boy, his own flesh and blood could perpetrate such a betrayal. He reached forward and snagged the boy's tunic, now spotted with blood. Hiccup flinched as he was hauled up, his feet dangling off the floor. Stoick lowered his face to within inches of his son's.

"So everything in the ring-a trick?" he hissed. The accusation was vicious. "A lie?" Hiccup was trembling at the rage in those eyes. There was no love or affection left there.

"I screwed up! I-I should h-have t-told you b-before now," Hiccup said urgently. He was stammering badly now: he always stumbled over his words when his father was yelling at him-and Stoick had never been so angry. And he knew it just enraged his father further. "I…just…you…" He then he stopped. He knew what he had to say-and he guessed what it would cost him. "Take this out on me," he said hopelessly. "Be mad at me! But please-just don't hurt Toothless!"

Stoick threw his straight across the hall and he slammed into the wall with a low cry. Pain erupted across his back and head as they impacted and he slammed to the ground, the wind knocked out of him. He blearily raised his head as Stoick advanced on him, his face showing amazement as well as fury. It was ever worse that the Chief had guessed. He loomed over the little shape as Hiccup painfully tried to rise to his feet.

"The dragon? Is that what you're worried about? Not the people you almost killed?" he roared. The whole village could hear but Stoick was beyond caring.

"He was just protecting me!" Hiccup protested desperately, shaking his head to try to clear his vision. His head was spinning from the impact. "He-he's not dangerous!" But as he gazed up into the unforgiving eyes, he knew beyond all doubt that this was going to be worse than anything he had ever faced. And then he pulled his shoulders back and lifted his bruised chin. Toothless was his friend, the most amazing and miraculous person in his otherwise miserable and lonely life. Since he had been a small child, Hiccup hadn't had a real friend, just bullies and people who ignored and despised him. Toothless had given him companionship, affection…love: all the things his family and tribe should have given him…but hadn't. The dragon had come to his rescue in the arena, knowing he was unable to fly, unable to escape. Was he dead already? Hiccup hoped there hadn't been time for them to kill his friend yet as he guessed the Chief would want to see the Night Fury die and Stoick had dragged him straight here. And Hiccup couldn't let him die when his friend had risked everything for him. He knew now that his friendship would cost Hiccup the same: everything. Stoick dragged him to his feet again.

"What? They've killed hundreds of us!" Stock roared at him in a rage.

"And we've killed thousands of them!" Hiccup argued suddenly, knowing nothing he could say would make anything any worse, so he might as well try to tell his father something he needed to know. "They defend themselves-that's all!" Stock glared at him, breathing hard in exasperation. "They-they raid us because they have to! If they don't bring enough food back, they'll be eaten themselves! There's something else on their island, Dad…it's a dragon like…"

And Stoick jerked him off his feet, holding his son up like a rag doll and glaring almost nose to nose with the boy. "Their island?" he accused the boy in a dangerous, low voice. "You've been to the nest?"

Hiccup felt the breath freeze in his throat.

"Did I say nest? I-I…" he babbled anxiously as Stoick lifted him even further off the floor.

"HOW DID YOU FIND IT?" Stock roared, shaking the boy like a rat. Finding the nest had been his obsession for as long as Hiccup could remember. But the boy could see that enormous head, rising from the smoky depths and mercilessly snapping dragons left and right as it sought only to feed itself. He recalled the fear the dragons had, the way they cowered from the huge monster. And if the dragons were afraid, they Hooligans wouldn't stand a chance…

"I-I didn't…" he stammered. His mind was blanking in the terror of the situation. This was even worse than he feared. "T-Toothless did. Only a d-dragon can find the island…" Stoick let him go and his legs buckled as the Chief straightened up with a new look of determination appearing in his eyes. And Hiccup knew exactly what he was planning. Cold fear grabbed his stomach-but it wasn't for himself or his dragon now. If they went to the island, they would all die! "Oh, no-no-Dad-no!" he cried desperately, staggering up. "It's not what you think. You don't know what you're up against! It's like nothing you have ever seen!" He ran to stand in front of his father, a scrawny, desperate shape with bruises and blood on his scared face. Stock roughly brushed him aside as if he wasn't even worth looking at and Hiccup turned after him. "Dad-please!" he shouted. "I promise you-you can't win this one!"

But Stoick walked briskly away from him, without even giving any sign he had heard a word Hiccup was saying. Blinded by rage and hatred, boiling with humiliation and disappointment, he ignored the desperate pleas of his son. Hiccup ran forward and grabbed his huge fist.

"Dad-please, for once in your life, would you please just listen to me?" he begged, knowing that the Hooligans would all be slain if they attacked the nest. His Dad would be killed. And no matter how cruelly Stoick treated him, no matter how savagely he tore his son down in private or in front of the village, no matter that he disinherited him or ordered his bullying or beating, Hiccup loved him. Stock turned, shook the boy off and swung his fist round, the crack of fist meeting flesh loud in the silence of the hall. Hiccup gave a low cry as he flew through the air, slamming onto the floor and rolling. His head was spinning and he could barely breathe. But he raised his bloody face to stare at the rigid shape, silhouetted against the door.

"You've thrown your lot in with them!" Stock condemned him loudly, his voice echoing across the plaza. He stared down at the bloody shape, the scrawny battered boy looking at him with blood and tears on his face. The Chief knew the boy was a traitor and there was only one penalty for that. He felt his mouth moving to say the words, to call for the bloody and agonising end his son deserved. But the shining green eyes looking up at him from the battered face, filled only with misery and hurt, were his wife's eyes. Beloved Valka, taken so many years ago, had loved their son and given her life to protect him and for her, for their love, he could not execute the boy. He could not meet her in Valhalla, knowing he had murdered their only child. He drew his shoulders back, making his judgement, condemning his son.

Hiccup felt tears streak his face and awaited the words which would end his life.

"You are not a Viking," Stoick snarled. Exile. Outcast. "You are NOT MY SON!"

And nothing more. No shouting for his death. No call for the warriors to drag him to the arena to spill his guts. He had been exiled and disinherited-like that hadn't already happened-but he wasn't to die.

The door slammed behind him as he left and Hiccup stared at the retreating figure through tear-blurred vision, his entire body hurting from the abuse he had taken. He heard the Chief bellow to ready the ships and knew that Toothless had been bought a reprieve-for now-but the Hooligans were sailing to their doom. Hiccup had lost his family, his home, his tribe-and his best friend. He had known in his heart that Stoick would be mad and he had run a dozen scenarios over how he would break the news to his father. All had involved showing how dragons were not wild and fierce but responsive and gentle and loyal. And, by the gods, Toothless had shown his loyalty and bravery, he had shown that they could be trained for he had not killed Stoick when Hiccup had ordered him to stop. And his demonstration had cost them both…everything.

He tried to push his abused shape up but his vision was greying with concussion and misery and it was almost relief when his senses deserted him and he slumped, unconscious.

oOo

It had been immeasurably painful, watching Toothless lowered onto the Chief's ship, chained and muzzled. The dragon was thrashing and struggling but he couldn't break the iron restraints. His desperate croons drifted up to the lonely boy, standing high on the boardwalk above the harbour and Hiccup clutched his arms tighter around his battered shape and watched with dry eyes. He had run out of tears, his heart numb at the devastating sentence he had been dealt. He stared down at the entire fleet, every ship the Hooligans possessed, prepared for war. All fighting men and women were mobilised with only the old, the infirm and the very young with their mothers spared the call. The teens had been left behind as protectors of the village but that was it: everyone else was going.

Hiccup was almost relieved because he was completely shunned now. No one would look at him, speak to him or acknowledge his existence. Surprisingly, Astrid and Gobber had left him food in the forge so that he wouldn't starve because he was not welcome in the hall and had already been thrown out of his home. He had slept at the back of the forge last night and had left before Gobber opened: he knew he was as welcome as a case of eel pox though the blacksmith had cast him a pitying look and a slight nod of permission. But no one had attacked him-not even Snotlout. His father had been explicit: he was not to be killed but he had to be off Berk by the time the fleet returned. The boy sighed and moved gingerly forward to peer down at the flagship. He knew it wouldn't return.

He cast a pained glance at the ship. He saw Stoick lean towards Toothless and snarl a couple of words and saw the dragon growl in response. He felt his heart shudder. He guessed that once Toothless had led them to the nest, he would be killed. For a moment, he saw his father glance back up at the village-and catch a glimpse of the traitor. Pointedly, the Chief looked away and Hiccup closed his eyes in pain. He couldn't help it: he still loved his father.

There was nothing he could do: his heart and mind were blank. His best friend was gone, his tribe would be destroyed and he had condemned his father to die. It was all his fault. So he stood where he was and watched the ships furl their sails, heard the shouts and felt the wind caress his face as they vanished between the seastacks and headed out to sea. And he was still standing there, hours later, after they had gone, lost from sight in the haze.

"It's a mess," Astrid said quietly. He looked up: he hadn't heard her silently arrive, so lost was he in his desolate thoughts but he was more grateful than he could ever express for her presence now. He had almost been shunned before but at least, people had bothered to sneer at him. Now he was invisible and it was far, far worse than even he had thought. But Astrid knew about his secret. She had flown on Toothless and had seen the giant dragon in the nest. She knew the danger to the tribe. "You must feel horrible. You've lost everything-your father, your tribe, your best friend…" He flinched.

"Thank you for summing that up," Hiccup said sarcastically, falling back on his last defence mechanism. She stared at his bruised face. They had all heard Stoick's shouts and the heavy blows he had delivered. And they had seen the boy stagger out of the Hall a while after his father, obviously badly beaten. She had winced, knowing how much he still loved his father and how the rejection would tear at what little confidence he retained. Snotlout and many of the villagers had listened to the confrontation with looks of satisfaction but she had heard her friend endure his worst nightmare and she had longed to run to comfort him…but the edict had been clear. he was an Outcast. He took a shuddering breath.

"Oh, why couldn't I have killed that dragon when I found him in the woods?" he sighed. "It would have been better for everyone!" There was something in his tone that made her look at him really closely.

"Yup!" she told him briskly, prodding. Hiccup, contrary to popular belief, was actually reasonably good at concealing things he didn't want others to see. He had hidden a whole dragon, after all! And no one but her knew how badly he had suffered through the long years of rejection and humiliation. "The rest of us would have done it," she added, inspecting him closely. This was the part that had bothered her. "So why didn't you? Why didn't you?" He inspected the floor closely and sighed.

"I don't know," he said dully. "I couldn't."

"That's not an answer!" she told him. Her eyes pleaded: I am your friend. Please, trust me!

"Why is this so important to you, all of a sudden?" he asked her sharply. She was picking at the whole root of this disaster and he suddenly found himself so ashamed.

"Because I want to remember what you say, right now!" she told him sternly. He turned to her despondently. How could it get any worse? He was going to leave Berk forever and she couldn't be seen to talk to him after this conversation in any case.

"Oh, for the love of…" he exploded. "I was a coward! I was weak! I wouldn't kill a dragon!"

"You said _wouldn't_  that time," Astrid told him.

"Oh, whatever!" Hiccup shot back, exasperated. He really was so terribly tired of it all. Tired of being hated and despised and useless at everything he tried. And now, his stupidity would lead to the destruction of the Hooligans. "I wouldn't! Three hundred years and I'm the first Viking who wouldn't kill a dragon!" He stared into her face for a long moment before he turned away to stare at the empty harbour once more. And in that moment, she saw his hopelessness, his shame, his misery. He finally, utterly felt he was useless and it was destroying what little of him was left. And her heart ached with grief for him.

"First to ride one, though," she reminded him gently, taking a hesitant pace towards the bowed shape. Hiccup stiffened. He swallowed against the lump in his throat. "So…" She could feel his resistance evaporate as the eyelids fluttered.

"I wouldn't kill him because he looked as frightened as I was," he admitted quietly, turning to face her. His green eyes were brimming with shame. "I looked at him and I saw…myself." There it was: his admission. He had been afraid. And he had exercised…compassion. It was the most un-Viking-like admission he could have made…but it was who he was. She saw that now. He had been treated horribly by everyone and yet he wouldn't hurt another person or creature just to make himself feel better. He was the kind, compassionate, brave boy she had known when she was very small. And he was hurting so very much.

"I bet he's really frightened now," she found herself saying. And then she stopped. Hiccup had come up with the most inventive answers to the impossible questions: how do you fly a dragon? How do you train a dragon? And now were were two more: how do you save your tribe and rescue your dragon? "What are you going to do about it?" she asked him. He inspected the floor and shrugged.

"Ahh…probably something stupid," he admitted. There was a tiny flash, a suggestion. It was a long shot…gods, it couldn't get a longer shot but maybe…

"Good," Astrid encouraged him, seeing a light flicker in his despondent green eyes suddenly. His battered face moved, from dull acceptance to concentration. She smiled. "But you've already done that." Her tone was expectant: she still believed in him. He looked up and saw her trust. His face brightened and the light finally returned to his eyes.

"Then…something _crazy_!" he told her and turned, heading for the arena at a run. Astrid gave a proud smile.

"Attaboy!" she murmured and ran after him.

oOo

His heart was pounding in his chest as he stood in the arena. He had known that Toothless had been imprisoned here before he was shackled and taken to the ships. The hole he had blasted in the bars of the roof was still there and he glanced up at that and knew he had to try to save his friend. He swallowed and took a pace towards the pens.

"If you're planning on getting eaten, I'd definitely go with the Gronckle," Fishlegs told him. "Jaw strength eight." Hiccup turned to see the rest of the class standing behind a very smug looking Astrid. Her eyes were twinkling at his confusion. Tuffnut pushed forward and gave a superior grin.

"You were right to seek help from the world's most deadly weapon!" he announced. He paused. "That's me," he added in case Hiccup hadn't guessed. The boy just stared at him, in shock.

"You-you guys do know I'm Outcast and shunned, right?" he murmured. Snotlout pushed past Tuff and Hiccup cringed back, expecting a blow. How could he pass up an chance like this? But his cousin was gushing with enthusiasm. He grinned at his smaller cousin.

"I love the plan!" he announced.

"I didn't…" Hiccup began, gaping. The class should be spitting in his face right now: just what had Astrid been saying? Ruffnut shoved Snotlout aside and lurched towards the smaller boy, her long face twisted in a very unsettling expression of admiration.

"You're crazy!" she told him. "I like that!" Hiccup shuddered at her tone and backed off a pace as Astrid pulled her aside and stood in front of her shocked friend with a smile.

"So-what is the plan?" she asked him. He met her gaze and tried to calm himself: it was all about calmness and confidence. He motioned them to stand back. Then he turned to the largest pen and took a sigh. He dragged the bars up and then scampered back.

"Watch," he said as the Monstrous Nightmare erupted from the cage. The whole class backed off-all but Hiccup who walked gently forward, his green eyes locked quietly on the dragon's. "Easy, easy, it's okay. I won't hurt you. Trust me," he murmured in a calm, soothing voice. The dragon stared at him: small, weak, not a threat and then he recalled the Night Fury that had flown in to protect his friend. A human worthy of the protection of the Night Fury was someone that a dragon needed to pay heed to. So he didn't catch fire and he allowed the boy to stretch his hand to within inches of the red and brown muzzle. Then the boy lowered his head in submission and looked away, offering his trust to the dragon.

The class all gasped as the Monstrous Nightmare, the most ferocious dragon they fought, pressed its muzzle into Hiccup's small hand, its eyes closing and an unmistakeable purr sounding from its spiky shape. Hiccup looked up and gently stroked the hideous face. "Hi there," he murmured. "Glad to meet you properly at last." The dragon nuzzled him gently. "Now, I need your help-and those of the other dragons. The village is in danger-and so is Toothless. And I need to help you make some new friends…"

He glanced over his shoulder and gauged his classmates. This was a powerful and aggressive dragon and he sensed it needed a strong rider. He rubbed the muzzle again. "Snotlout-stay still!" he commanded and gently lifted his hand off the muzzle and began to back away, towards the class. Snotlout began to panic and reached for a discarded spear but Astrid slapped his hand and he dropped the weapon. He looked about to run, his face utterly terrified. And Hiccup was calmness itself with the dragon following him, his muzzle no more than a couple of inches from his hands, as if he was dragging the huge beast on a short string as he slowly arrived at his cousin's side. With total focus, he grasped Snotlout's meaty hand and pulled it over his own, splayed. Snotlout snatched it away but Hiccup's grip was surprisingly strong as he snared it again.

"Wait…what are you…?" Snotlout yelped.

"Shh," Hiccup said calmly. "It's okay, it's okay," he reassured his cousin. Then Hiccup pulled his hand away as the dragon pressed his muzzle against the other boy's hand and Snotlout gasped as the dragon sniffed his hand and gently breathed in and out, the purr beginning in his throat once more. He was accepted. He looked into the livid yellow eyes and saw kinship there. He gave a little, frightened laugh.

"Ah!" was all he could manage. But Hiccup had backed away and Snotlout turned around, terrified. He didn't think he could manage the dragon all on his own. "Where-where are you going?" he asked. But Hiccup was at the side of the arena, rummaging in one of the storage trunks. He lifted a coil of rope.

"You're gonna need something to help you hold on," he explained. The other riders gazed at him but Astrid walked forward to the next pen and prepared to release the next dragon to be paired with a rider.

oOo

It had taken a couple of hours to pair up the dragons and fashion enough rope straps and reins to allow the riders not to fall off. Hiccup's experience withToothless as well as making saddles and bridles for horses in the forge meant he had seen what he needed to do and the class were once again shocked and amazed at his calm and confidence.

Snotlout had the Nightmare and Hiccup guessed it was the best match he could have made. The dragon was strong and Snotlout was the most physically gifted, though he was far from the most intelligent. But right now, the Heir to Berk was doing what his scrawny little cousin was telling him and was being…normal. Astrid had the Deadly Nadder-fast, accurate, deadly and rather proud. He felt she was a good match. She was already bonding with the beautiful creature. The twins, of course, had been the only choice for the Zippleback. There were two heads to the dragon meaning one per twin. It meant the lunatic twins had a really explosive dragon at their command but Hiccup couldn't help that: if they all survived, he would just have to stop them blowing up the village on a daily basis. If they survived.

Fishlegs was already cooing over the Gronckle, a solid, heavyweight dragon that seemed the physical match for the largest boy. The Gronckle and Hiccup had gotten on well because the boy had scratched it into submission a couple of times and when he trained it, he had guessed he would actually have a pretty sweet nature. It had nudged and fidgeted like an eager puppy-almost as Fishlegs was fidgeting at the excitement of getting his own dragon. Finally, once they were all ready, Hiccup made them try flying around the arena and taught them how to change direction by leaning and shifting their weight in the direction they wanted to go. They had managed taking off and landing without crashing and he had encouraged them to talk to their dragons. Finally, he had gotten them to feed their dragons and pet and play with them. The bonding and trust was imperative.

Astrid had caught his face as he watched them play with their dragons and start to forge their friendships. There was an expression of longing and pain. She petted the Nadder and brought her forward to allow him to scratch her gently.

"You miss Toothless," she said. He nodded wordlessly.

"I did this," he murmured. "I shot him down. I didn't kill him. I befriended him. And now he's a prisoner, I'm an Outcast and the tribe is heading for their doom. You were right: he'll be so scared." He closed his eyes and she saw his throat work as he fought tears.

"You didn't capture him," she murmured. "You spared him. You know more about dragons than anyone in Berk's history. You have a plan to save them. You didn't lead the tribe against a foe they couldn't possibly beat just because you were too bone-headed to listen!" Her condemnation was scalding. He shrugged.

"We're Vikings," he said. "We have stubbornness issues…" And then he stopped. He wasn't a Viking: his father had made that very clear.

"When to we leave?" Snotlout called. Hiccup opened his eyes, forced a very false smile on his face and nodded.

"Dawn," he told them. "It will get dark soon and the ships won't reach the island before morning anyway. I wouldn't want to fly an unfamiliar dragon at night. Get some rest: we'll leave at first light." The riders led their dragons back into the cages but didn't lock them, petting their new friends and leaving them saddled. Then they looked at Hiccup.

"What about you?" Astrid asked. "Where will you sleep?" Hiccup sagged and he sighed. He gestured around the arena.

"Got nowhere else," he murmured. Astrid shook her head.

"You can…" he began but he shook her head.

"I am an Outcast, Astrid," he told her painfully. "You are forbidden to help me or have me in your house." He stared at the floor and for a moment, he looked defeated. The girl looked at her friends.

"Then we will stay here with you," she decided. "It should help bonding, right?" He nodded. "And if we happen to bring extra food and maybe an extra blanket-whose business is it?" Hiccup knew but didn't answer because his throat was choked up with emotion. He blinked.

"Th-thanks," he managed.

"C'mon, U…Hiccup," Snotlout called. "Don't start snivelling like a girl. Leave that to Astrid!"

"You are so dead!" the girl shot back. "I will make you eat my axe!" And Hiccup managed a very slight smile: somehow, despite the most horrible disaster in his life, he had improbably found some friends. And that meant facing certain doom suddenly seemed a lot less daunting…


	20. Chapter Twenty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it has seemed a bit OOC for Hiccup to forgive everyone. Believe me-he hasn't, not really. Poor boy is still seriously messed up. Cue angstfest.

**Twenty.**

Sleeping in the arena had proved harder than Hiccup had thought. He had hoped that he could have coped because he was really, truly exhausted after the awful events of the last few days but seeing Snotlout there, pretending to be his friend, acting as if he hadn't beaten and abused Hiccup for so many years had Hiccup curling away as far as he could get from the boy and trembling in fear. Every time the boy had spoken, Hiccup had felt his breath hitch and had wanted to withdraw further. He had walked around the arena, tried to calm himself but he found he couldn't allow himself to sleep and couldn't make himself so vulnerable to his chief tormentor. Every time he heard that voice, trying to joke with him and pretend they had been friends had him feeling sick-and the images of Snotlout in that hut, threatening to hurt him so personally kept treacherously returning to his memory.

Strangely, the twins didn't provoke the same response and he couldn't understand why. Sure, they had helped Snotlout most times or watched his torment with enjoyment but it had been unusual for them to strike him. He knew in his mind that he should associate them with the litany of abuse he had suffered but somehow, they had never seemed so malevolent in his mind. They were idiots and violent but it was down to Snotlout. It was _always_  down to Snotlout.

He should be angry. He should be vengeful. He should want to make them pay and feel the pain he had for so many years. He should want to lash out. He was sad and he was afraid. He felt hollow and alone and cold. But he had a purpose. He had a mission, a glorious battle that would almost certainly send him to Valhalla. But all he wanted, truly wanted was to feel safe and loved...and his safety was chained on a longboat, sailing suicidally for the Nest in Helheim's Gate.

He had looked over to Astrid, curled up in a warm fur from her home and sleeping with her axe hugged in her grip. He frowned. He should hate her as well, because she was probably even worse than Snotlout. He had trusted her, believed in her and she had almost killed him through jealousy. He had loved her from afar forever, drawing on their childhood friendship and clutching at the image of the ideal Viking girl with increasing desperation. She had been his Valkyrie, his dream…and when she had saved him, he had thought maybe he could be her friend.

But then she had led that nightmare beating and he had felt everything shatter. Sure, she hadn't attacked him after the Elder's warning but she had ignored him which had been as bad. And why had he gone after her? He had been hurt and heartbroken and afraid…but the tiny corner of him that had longed after her forever had overruled his survival instincts and directed Toothless to catch her. Maybe he no longer felt afraid because, on Toothless, he was no longer weak and vulnerable: he was strong and powerful and in control. He had wanted to tell her how he felt…before he left. He had wanted to show her that he wasn't a cheat or a loser. He wanted to show her that she was wrong. He had wanted…an apology.

_Gods damn it-he DESERVED an apology._

And she had given it to him, when he had terrified her about a hundredth as much as she had terrified him. She had claimed she wanted to be his friend, to support him. And, to be honest, she had. He still didn't understand how she could be so cruel, so cold one day and then…change. And then it struck him and his core felt icy cold: Toothless. It was all about Toothless. Without the Night Fury, he was nothing. He was just Useless Hiccup, worst Viking on Berk.

He had crawled to the furthest corner of the Arena-the back entrance where he had stood, just before going in and screwing up his Final Exam. Wrapped in his blanket, he huddled tight until finally, his eyes closed. Unwillingly, his mind began to drift and he suddenly found himself in the Arena once more…

…facing the Monstrous Nightmare. But this time he wasn't alone. The others were there, standing behind him, watching him. He looked nervously behind him: he never trusted having Snotlout behind him-and his anxiety was vindicated when the boy slammed him forward with his shield, tossing the helpless Hiccup onto his knees. He fell at the feet of the Nightmare, which roared and slashed at him, its claws striping his back. He howled in pain and scrambled back- to face Astrid.

"Help me!" he begged her-and she punched him in the face, tossing onto his back. He rolled, heartbroken and terrified. He scrabbled to his feet-to face Snotlout. He backed off a step, his breath hitching and heart racing. "Snotlout-no, please…" he pleaded as the older boy grabbed him, twisted his arm behind his back and punched him hard. He slammed into the floor, writhing in pain at the foot of the flaming dragon. He rolled back, whimpering as he heard the twins laughing scornfully at his poor showing.

And then there was the roar and tell-tale whine of Toothless's flight as his friend blasted the roof off the Arena to get to his friend. Toothless landed behind him with a thud, his back arched and mouth filling with purple plasma as he faced down the Nightmare. The boy's eyes lit with hope…and then he screamed in utter despair as Stoick's axe bit into his dragon's neck. Toothless gave a shattering howl and collapsed, his blood pouring onto the Arena floor.

"You should have killed the creature when you had the chance, boy!" the Chief snarled. "Now I have to save you-AGAIN! I would never let it live-and you have caused it to die. Just like everything else you touch. You have shamed me and Berk. You are the worst Viking ever. You are not my son!"

"Toothless!" he screamed as the Nightmare loomed over him-only now it had Snotlout's face.

"Well, Useless-you caused his death-now it's your turn!" he scoffed and his claws arched down into Hiccup's thin chest…

He awoke with a scream, clutching at his chest and howling in terror. "TOOTHLESS!" He was hyperventilating, tears soaking his face and shudders running through him. He heard footsteps approaching and he curled up, his head buried in his arms. Astrid crouched by him and stared at him. He was trembling and whimpering.

"Oh man, Hiccup's broken," Tuffnut commented tactlessly, ambling over with his twin to see what the commotion was. Astrid glared at him. Snotlout stomped up.

"What's Useless want?" he grumbled. He hated being disturbed while sleeping.

"GET AWAY FROM ME!" Hiccup screamed, almost hysterically. His eyes were wide and pupils so dilated they almost appeared black. "Get away from me!"

"Back off!" Astrid snapped. They all took a pace back, staring at him as he shuddered, sweat dripping of his ashen and bruised face. "Hiccup?"

"Y-you too," he whimpered. She looked shocked.

"Hiccup?" she asked, confused. "I-I thought we were good…" He stared at her, clutching the blanket around his body.

"Toothless," he whispered. "Without him I'm nothing. I failed my exam. I'm disowned and outcast. Sooner or later, you'll go back to despising me…"

"Hiccup-no!" she begged. "I-I wouldn't…"

"Liar!" he breathed. Snotlout curled his fist and walked forward.

"Don't speak to my Princess like that!" he growled and Hiccup stared up at him with fearful green eyes-for a second.

"NO!" he shouted, his eyes flashing with sudden rage as he scrambled to his feet, his fists balled. "You don't get to talk to me like that. You don't threaten me or sneer at me or call me names! You don't act like you know ANYTHING! Because you don't! You can't fly that dragon without me. You can't control that dragon without me! You FAILED Dragon Training, Snotlout! And, Thor help me, if you speak to me again like that, I will have that Monstrous Nightmare EAT you!"

The dragons all roared and began to close on the little group of teens. The twins and Fishlegs had already pressed themselves against the walls of the Arena as they saw the dragons close to a few feet from the confrontation. Snotlout backed off a step from the enraged Hiccup and his fist unclenched. He looked behind him: every dragon eye was on the auburn-haired teen who was rigid with sudden rage. They were all looking to him for his command. "H-Hiccup?" he mouthed.

"You will do everything I order you. No arguments. No snide comments. No boasting or bragging. Or I will let you see if you can control that dragon without me around…" Hiccup swore, his entire body trembling with anger. "And never EVER lay a finger on me again, Snot. I trained every dragon here and I'm pretty sure I can control them all. Even without Toothless, I am in charge! DO YOU UNDERSTAND?"

The Heir to Berk nodded. Hiccup slowly calmed down, forcing his breathing to slow. He turned away.

"Get some sleep," he ordered them. "You'll need it." He walked slowly to the dragons and gently petted them until they calmed and went back to their sleeping places. Then he drifted back to his blanket and picked it up-and then he heard Astrid still standing here as the others ambled away.

"I don't want to talk," he said tightly.

"It's not Toothless," she told him. "It's who you are WITH Toothless. The Hiccup I never got to see." _The Hiccup who just kicked Snotlout's ass,_  she added silently.

"No one did," he said bitterly. "No one looked. No one cared."

"I care."

"NOW! Not then! Not when I really needed it…"

"You really need it now, Hiccup," she told him gently, taking a cautious step forward. "You need friends now more than ever."

"I'll just hurt you," he said in a low voice, his guilt and horrible lack of self-confidence suddenly revealed. "Just as I hurt Toothless. I shot him down. I stole his ability to fly. I should have let him go. But I kept him-and now he's been taken away in chains. He tried to help me-and my Dad disowned me. And I…I betrayed the Nest. My stupidity will lead to the destruction of the Tribe. Dad would NEVER have found it without my obsession in riding Toothless. My obsession to prove that dragons aren't mindless beasts to someone...to you. Gods, I nearly got us both killed! And now I will get my whole Tribe killed by the biggest mindless beast in history! And it's all my fault…" His voice was breaking, his breaths hitching and he ran his fingers through his hair, his face shadowed in the night-time Arena.

"Hiccup," she said, reaching out to him and gently touching his shoulder. He flinched. "It's not your fault. You didn't create that dragon. Your father has been looking for the Nest for years and may well have found it one day. Toothless chose to protect you. You spared his life."

"I shot him down." The self-hate was pitiful to hear.

"He's forgiven you, Hiccup," she told him softly. "He's your best friend. You cannot have a best friend who bears such grudge. He's forgiven you, Hiccup. But you have to forgive yourself." He was shaking his head, his hands overs face now, his shoulders jerking slightly.

"I got him killed," he whispered. "Dad will kill him as soon as they reach the Nest."

"No, he'll attack the Nest first," Astrid told him. "Killing a dragon would alert them. He'll attack as quickly as he can. You have time. We have time. You can do this-no one else could. No one else would even think to!" She paused and took a deep breath. "I'll stay behind, if you want. I-I don't want to hurt you any more." She sighed. "Take the Nadder. You'll need her to get there. I-I'll guard the village…" She turned away but she heard him shuffle his feet.

"…no…" he murmured. She paused.

"Hiccup?"

"Astrid, we need you," he said dully. "I-I need you. I even need Snotlout-though don't let him hear that, please Odin! You are the best of the gang on their dragon. We can't go without you." He stood, bowed in the shadows. "I'm sorry…"

"WHAT? What have you got to be sorry for, you idiot?" she exploded. "I should be apologising until Ragnarok for what I did to you! I was…HORRIBLE." He scuffed his foot.

"At least you weren't Horrendous," he muttered slowly, almost under his breath. She paused…and then gave a sudden smile. It was the most Hiccup thing he had said for a long time.

"What?" He turned to her. His voice was slow, deliberate and emotionless and his face was wary.

"Astrid…I _want_  to forgive you-I really do. I know you're sorry and my heart is shouting at me to forgive you because it's always been in love with you but my mind keeps rerunning that night. It…it's hard. I know it was the only time _you_  ever laid hands on me…well, until you found Toothless, that was…" he amended slowly, "so I really want to give you a chance. I didn't realise you could be so ruthless or so jealous and I didn't like the person you became. I was scared of the person you became. But you did come to my aid in the Arena and you probably helped save my life. So I owe you the chance. Just…don't expect me to be that relaxed because it's gonna take time. I'm...not very good at trusting people now. But I'm willing to try-if you will promise not to let anger consume you. If you're mad-tell me. Talk to me! Just don't…hate me."

Scarcely daring to breathe, she nodded. "I promise. By Thor and Odin, by all the gods of Asgard-I promise!" she said. He nodded and swallowed.

"Thanks," he said gently and swiped the tears off his face. "Get some rest. It'll soon be dawn!"


	21. Chapter Twenty One

**Twenty One.**

The flight was nerve-wracking and Hiccup had never felt as tense. The squadron had left exactly at dawn because everyone was awake long before and was far too excited to sleep. Hiccup was leading on the Nadder as the most experienced rider. Though he already had his dragon, he was far the best dragon rider and the teens had insisted he lead the way. Astrid was sitting behind him, her arms tight around his skinny shape and her warmth gave him courage, reminding him of that other flight on Toothless, where they found the Nest. Reminding him of what they were facing-and who he was rescuing.

"I'm coming, bud," he murmured. "It was all my fault. We should have left together. But I had to try. I couldn't leave if I knew I could've ended the war and saved all those lives."

The dragons had sped to the edge of the mists of Helheim's Gate and Hiccup had led them in, pausing and then allowing the Nadder to dive and start the slalom through the seastacks.

"Stay close and stay alert!" he shouted back to his friends. "This is gonna get a bit…twisty!"

He heard the teens grumble and a small smile crossed his lips as Astrid hung on tighter: she remembered the wild ride they had endured on Toothless. She was the only one he would allow to touch him-despite what she had done. He swallowed against the fluttering fear in his chest. But there were other sounds, the screech of dragons above them, heading…away from the island? Hiccup tensed and he hung tighter to the ropes. Then the Nadder swooped up and the island came into view.

And the teens saw a vision of Hel. The fleet was burning, the side of the mountain was blown out and the huge dragon was standing a hundred feet high on the beach, roaring over the Hooligans and stamping on the catapults like matchwood. The enormous grey dragon was lumpy with red spines all over its flanks. And it was roaring. Hiccup leaned to his right and took the dragons round in a tight curve, signalling his friends.

"Showtime!" he said.

oOo

Stoick started up in utter horror. The monster had exploded from the breached mountain and shrugged off catapult shots that had cracked open a volcano. The normal dragons had fled in a huge swarm, silent and utterly focussed on escaping from the monster. Maybe he should have taken that as a clue. And, treacherously, he had recalled the words Hiccup had cried at him as he cast the boy out.

_Try din't know what you're up against!_

_It's like nothing you have EVER seen!_

_Dad-please! I promise you-you can't win this one!_

How could he be so stupid? His son hadn't been protecting anything: Hiccup still loved his father and the boy, who had reconnoitred the nest, had warned his Chief about a foe that was beyond the capabilities of the entire Hooligan Tribe. And Stoick the Vast had ignored him, beaten him and cast him from the tribe.

What there would be of it after this catastrophe.

Once they ships had ignited, Stoick had pulled himself together. There was no hope of winning this battle: all he needed was to get as many of his people away. He turned to his brother and his friend. "Get them to the far side of the island," he told Spitelout. "You go too, Gobber!" The blacksmith gave a grin.

"I think I'll stay," he told his friend.

"I can buy them a few minutes if I give that thing something to hunt," the Chief told him, his face set. Gobber clasped his hand in a gesture of brotherhood. He stared into his friend's eyes, not needing to say any more.

"And I can double that," he said calmly. The men shared a nod-see you in Valhalla-and then separated, shouting and throwing things at the huge dragon, which tried to split its attention on the two irritants. Until it focussed on the Chief and opened its mouth to cremate him. Stock froze, closing his eyes and preparing to join his wife…

…but the explosion he heard did not accompany his pain and death. He looked up to see the huge dragon roaring as a squadron of dragons flew by the monster, the explosions from their attack still burning its hide. And they had people on them…Vikings! Stoick's mouth moved in a soundless exclamation of shock:

Hiccup!

oOo

Hiccup had seen the monster target his father and had swung the squadron round in a tight loop. "Attack!" he shouted and the Nadder responded to his intent, firing its brilliant blast at the dragon. The rest followed him as they whipped past the snarling monster and the boy glanced down to see his Dad was okay. Then he turned back to his team.

"RUFF! TUFF ! WATCH YOURSELVES!" he shouted commandingly. "MOVE, FISHLEGS!"

On the ground, his father was watching with his jaw slack.

"Look at us! We're riding dragons!" Tuffnut shouted to the stunned Vikings below.

"All of us!" Snotlout added unnecessarily. Hiccup swept them round for another pass, careful to keep them out of range of the monster. He gestured.

"Fishlegs-break it down!" he commanded, knowing the strengths and weaknesses of his team. He had watched them for so many years, knew exactly what they knew and could do. The boy who had read the Dragon Manual six times responded immediately.

"Fully armoured skull and tail made for bashing and crushing: steer clear of both!" the largest boy advised. "Small eyes, large nostrils: it relies on hearing and smell!" Hiccup paused for a second.

"Okay. 'Lout, 'Legs-hang in its blind spot and keep it confused!" Hiccup ordered sharply. "Ruff, Tuff-find out if it has a shot limit! MAKE IT MAD! Distract it from the villagers!"

"That's my specialty!" Ruffnut announced cheerily. This was stupid and very dangerous which had twins written all over it. She was perched on the right neck of the Zippleback with her twin on the left. But the self-styled 'world's deadliest weapon' wasn't happy with her pronouncement.

"Since when?" he scowled. "Everyone knows I'm much more irritating. See…" And he wrenched the horn of the Zippleback head and flipped it upside down. He started pulling faces at his twin. Hiccup rolled his eyes.

"JUST DO WHAT I TOLD YOU!" he cried to the squabbling twins. "I'll be back as soon as I can!" Then he soared over the villagers. "GET BACK!" he shouted at them. "GET AWAY! BY ODIN, DAD-GET THEM AWAY!"

Stoick watched him in shock. Gobber ambled to his side. "Every part the stubborn, boor-headed Viking you ever were!" he pointed out. And all the Chief could do was nod. Was this really his son, his weak, distractible, disobedient, stammering, embarrassing runt of a son? Could this confident, decisive young man, leading his riders in attacking the monster he, Stoick had unleashed on his people and deploying his troops with skill and wisdom actually be his boy? And if so, where the Hel had this come from? He stared at Gobber. The old smith shrugged.

"Yer a blind fool, Stoick!" Gobber told him bluntly. "He's your boy. He listened to every word you told him on chiefing. He will do anything to make you proud of him. And he is clever, brave and determined. Why wouldn't he make a great leader? All he needed was a chance-the chance you never bothered to give him!"

Stoick stared up at the enormous monster and the fact it was being annoyed by the riders, swooping and swarming around it. How could his scrawny little boy hope to defeat it? And then he saw where the Nadder was heading: Hiccup was swooping down over the burning ships, seeking for…the Night Fury. His dragon. He nudged Gobber.

"Get them to safety!" he ordered. "This is going to get messy." Gobber watched him change direction and head for the shore.

"And where are you going?" he called after his friend.

"I'm going to help my son!"

oOo

The Nadder swooped low over the burning ships and Hiccup scanned them frantically. Toothless was helpless, bound and chained. He craned his neck and then he nodded. "There," he said and pointed to the struggling black shape, still helpless in the metal harness, chains and muzzle that he had been locked into on Berk. The boy switched places with Astrid as they swooped low over the ships. He paused, then leapt down onto the deck to land by his dragon. He stared up at Astrid, sitting proud on her Nadder.

"Go help the others!" he shouted to her and she nodded, flying the Nadder away. Then he turned to Toothless and tried to reassure the dragon. He stroked softly and stared into the wide green eyes. "Hold on," he soothed the Night Fury as he dragged the muzzle off him. "I'm here. I'll never leave you, bud. It's you and me-together." Then he cast around, found a sword and began to try to prise the chains free. Not for the first time, the boy wished he was much bigger and stronger: he was sure Snotlout wouldn't have any problem with the restraints. But he couldn't get the chains to budge.

Behind him, he could hear the teens shouting. Fishlegs had crashed the Gronckle, having lost control due to the influence of the red-spined monster, Snotlout had been bashing its eyes and the twins…were being the twins. But they had managed to annoy the monster because it roared and its club-like tail slammed into the burning ships. A huge jolt hit the boy and his dragon and they were pitched into the sea. Treading water, Hiccup watched his chained friend sink down into the sea and he felt desperation at the wide green eyes sinking away from him. But he didn't hesitate: he took a deep breath and determinedly swum down to reach his friend. He would rather die than leave him. Life without Toothless would be worse than death anyway. But though he put his strength and weight into the effort, he couldn't get the chains to budge. But his struggles crew feebler and feebler as his vision blacked. He ran out of air and went limp...and began to drown...

Then a huge hand snared his collar and the boy was hauled up to the surface. The protesting Toothless watched with a despairing groan as his little rider was taken away from him. The boy was dumped hard on the rocky shore by the black volcanic sands and he lay limp. Huge hands pumped his chest fiercely, each firm press squeezing water from his mouth and nose. Stoick stared down on his son, his eyes despairing. Then he pressed once more and heard a horrible gasp for air from the boy. Hiccup's eyes popped wide open and he took another wild gasp-and then immediately coughed and began to sit up. He bowed forward and hacked away, his throat and nose burning and lungs hurting. His eyes widened and he frowned in shock.

"D-dad?" he breathed as his father turned away and dived down to reach his trapped friend. But below, Toothless had already accepted his fate: his little Viking had been taken and there was no way he could free his dragon. Toothless would run out of air and die but maybe his Hiccup would live. The dragon bowed his head and waited…

…and then a huge shape appeared in front of him. It was the powerful, red-bearded man who scared and hurt his rider, but who Hiccup loved. His father. The man who had imprisoned and taunted the dragon. Toothless didn't want to spend his last moments with the man but he felt he had little choice. Then the man gave a look that may have been an apology and then he reached forward and wrenched the bars and chains free. Toothless stared for a second, warring whether to attack him or save him-but he was Hiccup's father and he had just saved the boy. So he found himself lunging forward, his teeth grabbing the man's shoulder and hauling him up as the dragon undulated rapidly to the surface, dropping the man on the rocky ledge by his son as the dragon landed on a rock behind his boy.

Toothless gave a little croon at seeing the soaked and coughing shape sitting on the rock, looking so small and alone-until his dragon reappeared. Hiccup's face lit with joy and he turned to his friend and smiled in relief. "Toothless!" he sighed. "Thank Thor! I thought…" And he stretched out a hand which Toothless nuzzled against gently and Hiccup reached up to embrace his dragon. But Toothless turned away to stare at the giant dragon that had enslaved and terrorised his kind for so long but was now finally vulnerable out of its nest. He turned back to look at Hiccup and the boy scrambled to his feet and stood by his friend. He followed the dragon's glare.

"You got it, bud!" he said, his relief at being reunited with his dragon obvious. He swung into the saddle and automatically clipped his safety lines on. No matter how desperate the situation, he felt safer on Toothless. But then he felt the presence by him and he turned to meet his father's gaze. He stiffened and cringed back. Stoick looked at him, his face stricken.

"Son," he murmured, then grasped his hand and the boy froze: the last time Stoick had touched him had been that last punch in the Great Hall. His mind unhelpfully supplied the image of that moment and of many previous blows-along with the horrific dream image of his father killing Toothless. His eyes widened and very cautiously, he pulled his hand away.

"D-dad?" he murmured. "I-I'm sorry," he added automatically. The Chief swallowed.

"I-I should apologise to you," the Chief told him. Hiccup recoiled slightly. His father was still wary of the dragon-and Hiccup could feel the low vibration of a growl in Toothless's body-but he was still feeling horribly vulnerable, despite being on his Night Fury.

"Why?" Hiccup asked him softly. "I-I betrayed Berk. I-I failed you. You were right-I didn't keep my bargain. I am a disgrace and an embarrassment. I'm not your son, am I?"

Stock flinched and his fists tightened. "You are my boy," he said gruffly. "You…have failed me many times, Hiccup. You have shamed me even more." The boy sighed and turned away, his hands pressing harder onto Toothless's head as his misery filled him once more. "But…" He captured Hiccup's hand again and the boy stilled, his entire body stiff. "But I am not ashamed now." His gaze lingered for a moment on the bruises on the boy's face-bruises he had put there. The boy gave a slight nod, wary and unsure what to say. He felt certain his father wouldn't hit him now but Stoick was making an effort. He owed him an effort as well.

"Erm. I'm sorry," the boy said. It was automatic: he always apologised-because it was always his fault. No matter who had caused it, it was always Hiccup's fault. But his eyes said so much more, begged the questions he ached to ask: Why? Why couldn't you say this to me back on Berk? Why now when we're all about to die? Why now after you've taken everything from me? When you have all but destroyed me? Why could you never see me for who I am? Why could you never listen to me, Dad? That would have spared all this! But your pride and your obsession with making me into your image has led me here. Has led to all this.

"Hiccup," he said softly. Hiccup swallowed. He couldn't help it: he was still scared. He couldn't let Stoick touch him even now and he quietly pulled his hand away once more. But Stoick's expression was stricken. He took a deep breath. "I'm sorry. For everything." His voice was apologetic.

"Yeah, me too," he sighed. He had apologised so much, begged for forgiveness. How much more could he do? Stock looked beyond him and realised what the boy was trying to do. He looked at the dragon.

"You don't have to go up there," Stoick told him urgently. He couldn't see how his small, skinny son could possibly prevail against that mountain-sized monster. But the boy gave a slight, self-conscious smile. This was his moment: he was the only one who could. It didn't matter what his father said any more.

"We're Vikings," he told his father, dragging up his favourite catchphrase. "It's an occupational hazard." And he gave his crooked smile, his green eyes gleaming with determination. And Stoick saw it then, the bravery and decisiveness that he had never realised Hiccup possessed. He took the boy's hand once more and gave a single, tight squeeze. He had to make the apology for his cruel sentence and tell the boy what he needed to know. They were probably still all going to die.

"I'm…I'm proud to call you…my son," he assured the boy. And let his hand go. That was it: Stoick was a man of few words where emotion was concerned. Not a great father either. But those were the words Hiccup had sought for his entire life. Why now? But it was probably the last thing his Dad would say to him: the last thing anyone would say to him. The boy smiled again and the tightness in his chest eased just a touch.

"Thanks, Dad," he said softly then turned back to Toothless and leaned forward in the saddle as the Night Fury bunched his muscles and fidgeted. "C'mon, bud," he murmured. "Let's do this-together!" Stock stood back as the dragon leapt into the air, huge wings rocketing them upwards with the characteristic Night Fury whine.

"He's up!" Astrid shouted and cheers rang out from the watching vikings. There was the clang of swords and axes on shields. The Hooligans were enjoying the show as the pair swooped round and headed into the fray. Hiccup heard Astrid order the twins to get Snotlout out of the line of fire and saw the Zippleback swoop in to grab the shape of Snotlout, who was racing along the dragon's neck and then leaping into their grasp. But as Astrid tried to swoop away, the dragon opened its enormous maw, inhaling with the force of a hurricane. And despite the Nadder flapping as hard as it could, it was being drawn inexorably into the dragon's mouth.

Astrid was being sucked into its mouth.

Hiccup flipped them round, the whine still sending the Vikings ducking warily to the shouts of 'NIGHT FURY!' He rolled his eyes as they screamed towards the monster dragon and Toothless unleashed a powerful plasma blast at the dragon's head, blasting Astrid and her Nadder free-unfortunately separately. Astrid screamed as she plunged towards the distant ground, trying to see anything that could break her fall and Hiccup felt his heart in his mouth. He leaned hard and the Night Fury flipped around into a twisting dive, accelerating downwards and catching her as she approached a rocky impact.

"D'you get her?" Hiccup shouted to Toothless, his heart in his mouth. But he was right to trust the Night Fury as the dragon tucked his head under his body and peered at the girl. Hanging upside down, Astrid grinned back at the dragon and he grinned toothlessly back. Neatly, he tossed her upright and then put her down gently as the boy and his dragon arched up to face the massive dragon. Hiccup knew he was the only one with the skills and the dragon to make the challenge. Astrid ran to the top of a small rise and watched them go, praying for their success.

"Go!" she breathed as they soared up and the boy stole one last glance at his friend before focussing and inspecting the monster facing them. His green eyes took in every detail, his body pressed close to Toothless. He knew their chances of success were slight but he had to lure it away from the villagers and his Dad. The dragon was huge, heavily-armoured and enraged. But it was a dragon.

"That thing has wings," Hiccup said to Toothless. "Okay-let's see if it can use them!" He threw the Night Fury into a tight turn and arrowed towards the monster once more. Toothless accelerated and unleashed his most powerful plasma blast at the creature, catching it full on the flank. With a roar, it went down, the impact shaking the earth and sending up an enormous dust cloud that had the Vikings coughing and covering their eyes. And then, out of the chaos, an enormous pair of wings unfurled and hundreds of feet of wingspan beating sent gale force winds as the massive beast struggled to get off the ground. Hiccup and Toothless whipped round and the boy tightened his knees around the Night Fury.

"D'you think that did it?" he asked his friend as the monstrous beast rose from the ground behind them. Hiccup glanced over his shoulder and smiled at his friend. "Well, he can fly," he noted, wondering how well such an unaerodynamic and massive beast could actually soar. He was on the fastest and most accurate dragon known: this would be interesting. "Let's see how he does," he added and lay as flat as he could on the dragon's neck, accelerating away from the enormous beast. A shattering roar sounded behind them as the monster followed, enraged by the attack from the Night Fury that had disappeared from the nest weeks earlier. Hiccup had Toothless dinking and weaving expertly but the huge dragon was less elegant, just smashing through the rocks as if they were sticks. Stoick gazed, speechless, at his son's prowess as he flew the Night Fury at unbelievable speed through the rocks. But the monster was following.

Hiccup felt the wind blast his face as they hit speeds he had never attempted before and he felt it then: the immense surge of adrenaline that almost-almost-overcame his absolute terror at being chased by a mountain-sized dragon. And as they slalomed through the seastacks, he stole a glance back at the dragon. It made no move to avoid them, bashing through them using its bulk. It was huge and very dangerous-but it manoeuvred terribly. Hiccup looked ahead and then stared up into the stormy sky with the low clouds and smiled. He had a plan.

"Time to disappear!" he said as he heard the horrendous intake of breath and knew the dragon was trying to incinerate them. They dived sideways as the blast roared by them. Hiccup felt the hair at the back of his head singe and he drove Toothless upwards, vanishing in the cloud bank. The enormous monster was only a few flaps behind and vanished as well.

In the clouds, Hiccup and Toothless circled. They couldn't beat the dragon in a straight fight for though the Night Fury had a plasma blast strong enough to knock it over, he couldn't penetrate the armoured hide. But it was huge, manoeuvred poorly and had a relatively small wing to size ratio. He frowned. They were swift, manoeuvrable and accurate. And he glanced over his shoulder again.

_You aren't so fireproof on the inside, are you?_

The blood of seven generations of Chiefs ran in his veins and the hidden spark of leadership stirred in his breast. Hiccup was determined and very clever but he saw things differently to a normal Viking. So while his father would look for force, he considered all the other options. The only thing he knew for sure was that there was no peaceful option this time: it was kill or be killed with this monster. And he had a complex plan to achieve that.

The plan was crazy enough to make even the twins pause and had a really small chance of success but there was no other alternative: Hiccup had himself and Toothless against the monster. His heel moved down and the tail opened wider. He leaned and the responsive Night Fury sped them round in a silent circle.

"We need to shoot his wings, bud," he said quietly to his friend. "Can you do that?" The Night Fury cast him an insulted look and then then swung round. Hiccup could feel the dragon's body tense with the plasma he generated and then they dived out of the gloom and past the monster, blasting through the wings. As they swung back, Hiccup and Toothless blasted again. And again. The cloud was lit by flash after purple flash as the Night Fury punched hole after hole in the grey, membraneous wings of the monster. The watching Vikings frowned and wondered what was happening.

But the monster knew-and it was FURIOUS. It felt the damage to its wings and the defiance of the black dragon that had escaped its influence weeks before. It reached for the mind of the smaller dragon but it's grasp skittered off a shield: somehow, it was protected from its influence. So it counterattacked with a huge slew of fire that filled the clouds and lit up the sky with flames.

Coming round again, Hiccup saw the river of flames too late and Toothless was unable to miss the thing completely. He saw with dismay that the tail had brushed the flames and the linen and leather membrane was burning. They were out of time. He flung Toothless round in one last pass, blasting the thing straight in the face before they obviously dived past it and headed directly downwards, towards the island thousands of feet below. But as they accelerated downwards, the huge dragon followed.

Hiccup could feel his dragon tense under him. Toothless was feeling as worried as he was: this was the riskiest part of the plan. Hiccup could feel his pulse galloping in his chest and his knuckles had gone white as he clamped onto the saddle. "Hold, Toothless," he soothed his dragon. "Wait. Wait…" And then he felt it behind him: the huge dragon had opened its mouth and started drawing in its breath to incinerate them. "Hold…" Hiccup soothed.

And then he flipped the dragon. "Now, bud!" he shouted and Toothless fired his most powerful blast into the dragon's open mouth, igniting its explosive gases within its throat and setting the creature on fire. He knew the dragon wasn't fireproof inside and he knew that alone wouldn't kill it. He threw Toothless around and felt the sluggish response. The tail was almost all burnt away…and the ground was coming up awfully fast. He asked and Toothless gave everything to spin around and climb hard towards the sky, flying over the dragon's back as it tried to slow, to turn but in vain as its punctured wings ripped apart. It gave a massive roar as it hit the ground with the most awful explosion.

The impact reverberated through the entire island. The crash had caused the dangerous fire in the dragon's throat to spread to its flame chambers and ignite every molecule of explosive gas inside it. The result was armageddon. The dragon blew itself apart, the flames scorching up its back as the explosion travelled through the immense body. Its back arched as it died, the tail curving round with lethal force as the Night Fury scrambled up desperately ahead of the blast. Hiccup stamped his heel down but the tail was just a twisted mass of burnt and bare metal pieces and nothing happened.

"NO!" he screamed as the club tail hit them and he felt himself slammed from the saddle. His vision greyed and he felt his lines pull free. His body went limp and he wondered if he would see his mother soon as everything went black. He fell limply away into the fire.

Beside him, the Night Fury gave a roar of fear. Hiccup was limp and falling into the explosion and away from him. Toothless flipped his body round. He was falling anyway so he threw his huge wings into a desperate fight to reach his little viking. With every wingbeat, he closed on his rider. He was almost in touching distance as the flames engulfed them…


	22. Chapter Twenty Two

**Twenty Two.**

 

The air was filled with ash and the stench of scorched dragon flesh as the Chief of Berk stumbled through the aftermath of the battle. The beach of Dragon Island was strewn with charred skin, bones and ash, the aftermath of the explosive death of the mountain-sized Red-spined dragon that the Vikings were already referring to as the Red Death. But Stoick only had eyes for the small black shape of his son's dragon.

"HICCUP!" he shouted. "HICCUP!"

The beach was chaos, boulders and rocks exploded or smashed by the impact. But the Chief was desperate, his eyes scanning every inch of the beach, until he saw it: not grey but black. The Night Fury. Toothless.

He ran forward, his legs strong as he ran over the broken ground. He almost reached the dragon when he caught sight of something that made his blood freeze: the saddle on the dragon's neck was empty. Stock dropped to his knees and his eyes shone with sudden grief.

"Oh Hiccup," he breathed. And guilt assailed him for all the times he had shouted at or struck the boy, for every harsh word or insult he had tossed at the slight boy. And all those times his son, his brave and determined boy had suffered at his displeasure. "Oh son, I did this," he moaned.

And he knew he had. Hiccup wouldn't have driven himself to such crazy lengths if he had been accepted, if he had felt part of the tribe. But Hiccup had never been part of the tribe, ostracised and rejected, the boy had finally found the way to make his father proud-at the cost of his life. He had saved the village-but not himself. And if Stoick had given him that chance earlier, maybe his son would not be dead.

"Son-I'm sorry," he whispered.

Toothless opened his eyes at the sound of Stoick's voice and bleary green eyes fixed on the huge man, on his knees with his head bowed. The rest of the tribe were drawing close but Toothless was tired and he hurt. The impact had been survivable for him, because dragons were tough, but it was still a very rough landing. He saw the girl, Astrid emerge from the crowd, her eyes filled with tears and the other dragons looked distraught. But the word…the word sorry was what Toothless had been waiting for. It was a word he knew and a word that everyone on Berk owed his rider. But his father most of all.

Slowly, he unfolded his wings-to reveal the battered and bloody shape within. Hiccup.

Stoick grabbed him and his face suddenly lit with hope. "Hiccup!" he gasped and pressed his ear to his son's toast rack chest. Against all hope, there was the faint pitter-pat of the boy's heart.

"He's alive!" he cried and cheers rang out. "You brought him back alive!" More cheers as Gobber limped over and peered down at the grievously wounded shape in the Chief's arms.

"Well, most of him," he said.

oOo

Stoick's breath froze as he saw what his friend meant. Bruised, battered and broken, Hiccup was still gravely wounded-but the worst was his left foot and ankle. His boot was gone and somehow, his foot had taken the brunt of the blast before the flameproof dragon had wrapped him in its embrace. The foot was burnt and torn, the flesh blackened and cracked with the charred bone showing in places. Blood oozed from the upper limits of the wound, a red stream leaking the boy's life onto the dry ashes of his foe. He stared up at Gobber and his face held utter despair.

"HEALER!" Gobber bellowed. He knew what had to be done-both men did. The bleeding had to be stopped and fast. And the foot couldn't be saved. The damage was too great and the risk of infection too high. Two healers ran forward, both approaching the boy with trepidation: neither wanted to say what had to be said though their inspection and expressions said it all.

"It'll have to come off," Gobber said quietly. "Does anyone have an axe?"

Astrid walked slowly forward, handing over the beautiful axe Hiccup had given her. She couldn't believe that this was happening and she shooed the others back. Then she went to Toothless, embracing the dragon as a fire was lit and the blade and water were heated. She buried her head in his neck and held onto him tight as he howled and the THUNK sounded as the blade fell and they cut his lower leg off.

The healers were working frantically: they had to stop the bloodless from the already pallid and gravely wounded boy. Tourniquets were tightened and hot iron was lifted again to cauterise the blood vessels. Astrid clung tighter to Toothless as she smelled burning flesh, heard the low mindless cry of the boy and wept. Stoick was murmuring and Toothless suddenly pulled away, bouncing and racing to his little Viking, his eyes wide with misery and he licked frantically at the raw wound. Gobber and the Chief shoved him back and the healers poured hot water over the wound to wash away the sticky saliva. Hiccup gave another mild gasp and then lay still. Astrid grabbed Toothless again and rubbed his head.

"Let them help him, Toothless," she said gently but the dragon whined and struggled to get to his friend. "He needs them. They can save him."

"Not here," Helga piped up. "He needs Gothi. He needed to get back to Berk." Stoick stared at her helplessly, clutching the limp shape in his arms. The crude bandages around his stump were still red and Hiccup was still bleeding. The ships were wrecked: maybe a couple could be made seaworthy in a day but that was far too long for his son: Hiccup would have bled out by then. But Astrid walked forward, her eyes determined.

"Chief-I will take him home," she said. He stared at her.

"I should be the one," he said simply but she shook her head.

"Sir-you can't ride a dragon. I can. Stormfly is fast-very fast. And Toothless's tail is gone. She's the best option."

"No. I should be the one." Damned stubbornness! She stared at him, exasperated.

"Chief-Hiccup taught me to fly," she told him evenly.' "He's my friend. I won't let him die. And I am his only hope." She turned to look at the Deadly Nadder. "C'mon, girl-we have a job to do!" And she leapt onto the dragon's back and looked down on him. "Sir-Hiccup needs me! And I will be there for him. I haven't been there before but I am here now. Let me save my friend!"

The healers tightened the strapping harder around the stump and padded it again. Hiccup had a lot of other wounds as well, especially the lump on his head and some definitely broken ribs but she stared only at the bruised face of her friend and recalled his goofy smile, his bright green eyes and his pitiful lack of self-confidence. She looked down at Stoick as he lifted his son into her arms, securing him in the ropes. She gently shifted her burden-her friend-and made sure his head was resting comfortably against her chest.

"Take care of him," Stoick charged her. "Protect him with your life!" He paused and handed her his sword. "Take this. Show it to them. It's a sign of my authority." She nodded and gently leaned over her friend, her lips brushing against his forehead.

"Let's go home, babe," she murmured and kicked Stormily into the air.

The journey home was fraught with fear as Astrid alternated between holding on for dear life to Stormfly, who was flying far faster than they had to get to Dragon Island and checking that Hiccup was still alive. She could just feel the rise and fall of his chest against her but he was limp and light as a feather, his bloodless face and white lips terrifying. As his head lolled, she could just see the flutter of his pulse on his neck.

"Hang on, Hiccup," she urged him roughly. "I can't lose you now. You've done something stupid and you've done something crazy. Now do something stubborn: don't die. Hang on. Don't leave me alone. Don't leave Toothless alone."

But he lay without giving any indication there was any consciousness in his body. She hugged him closer and they soared high over the harbour and curled over the plaza. There were shouts and cries but she landed outside her home, screaming. "DAD! DAD!"

Olaf Hofferson erupted from he building, staring in shock at his daughter on top of the dragon. He stared. He was unfit to go on the armada, though Astrid's mother had gone. But his eyes focussed on the dragon.

"Astrid?" he asked in shock. The girl bored her piercing sapphire gaze into his face.

"Dad! I need your help. It's Hiccup-he's really badly hurt and needs Gothi. Can you take him to her?" Her tone was commanding.

"But…but…"

"Yes-I'm riding a dragon!" she announcing, lifting her head and sweeping her gaze over the assembled villagers, her anger causing them to lower the various weapons they had grabbed. "Hiccup taught us. It's how we went to help the rest of the village. They found the nest-and there was the most gigantic dragon that was the size of a mountain. It destroyed the boats and the catapults!" There were sighs and gasps. "Then we arrived. Hiccup got Toothless-the Night Fury-free and they fought the dragon. They destroyed it!"

The ripple of laughter had her fists balling.

"I fail to see what's so funny," she announced icily. "Hiccup just saved the whole gods-damned village and is terribly wounded. The others are safe." She looked down. "I saw Mum. She's okay, Dad." Olaf gave a sigh of relief at the release of tension he hadn't even realised her was feeling. "But Hiccup has lost a leg and is bleeding. He's got other injuries. The healers amputated but he needs Gothi. Please! We all owe our lives and our safety to him!" And then they realised the bundle in her arms was the small, curled shape of the auburn-haired boy, the outcast son of their Chief. And the drip of blood from his padded stump caught their eyes.

"He's Outcast!" came a voice.

"Stoick told him he was proud to have him as his son!" Astrid snapped. "That sounds very much like he's been forgiven. Or do you want to argue with the Chief when he returns?" She fished out the Chief's sword and held it up for all to see. "The sign of his authority. Hiccup is to be welcomed here!" she announced. Olaf stepped forward, fighting his fear of the dragon and reached his arms up.

"Here," he said. He had always felt sorry for the lad and as Astrid finally relinquished the limp shape into his arms, he realised her concerns. He looked more than three-quarters dead and weighed nothing. He glanced at the boy and saw the bandaged stump with a shudder and then turned and began to trot down the hill. The girl wheeled her dragon round and walked Stormfly after him. The villagers trailed after her: they were unnerved but Astrid had taken charge and they loved a good show. Astrid was respected and already recognised as a fine Viking: they were willing to give her the chance that they would never have given Hiccup.

Olaf hammered the door and Gothi snatched it open, already expecting the visitor. She gestured to her table and Hiccup was tenderly laid down as Astrid leapt off Stormfly, motioned her to perch on the nearly seastack and ran in as well. The elder tossed sand on the floor and scratched instructions. Olaf peered at the words and translated, stripping the blanket from the boy, then his clothes, leaving him only in his skivvies. The skinny, battered and shrunken shape faced them and the Elder tossed herbs and dried seaweed into the bowl and ladeled in water then pounded the mixture to a paste. She motioned Olaf to hold Hiccup down and then untied the tourniquet. The blood began to trickle but she deftly smoothed the paste over the bleeding stump and the ooze slowed to almost nothing. Her piercing eyes narrowed and she scratched a question in the sand.

"What did they use to do this?" Olaf translated.

"An axe," Astrid admitted, her hand tightening on the haft. Gothi nodded, her eyes reading the gesture and then she turned back to her job, attending his other wounds, trickling water and potions down his throat and bandaging and salving almost every part of the battered boy. Olaf wrapped his arms round his daughter and he felt her lean back into her father's embrace.

"He'll make it," he told her steadily, feeling her need for comfort. "He's survived so many hardships."

"But what if this is too much for him?" she asked gently. "Look at him, Dad! He's so skinny and beaten. He's been treated so horribly by everyone but he still goes and does this!" He stared at her.

"All that was true?" he whispered. She spun to face him.

"Dad-when have I ever lied to you?" she asked in an incredulous voice. "It was…terrifying! That monster just smashed through the side of the mountain and our catapults and weapons just bounced off it like nothing! Hiccup freed Toothless and he drew it away from us all and took it on with just him and Toothless. It was…" And her eyes shone. "Amazing." She smiled. "They took it up and fought in the clouds. Toothless was firing again and again. When they emerged, Toothless's tail was on fire but the monster's whole mouth was aflame. They lured in down and made it crash. It blew up!" He hugged her.

"And the rest of the village?"

"A few scrapes and burns but no one else was as badly hurt as Hiccup." And her face fell and her eyes shone suspiciously with tears. "Dad-he's the one person here who won't kill. He's not a coward, he just won't take a life if it can be avoided. And he had the most terrible injuries." She closed her eyes. "Dad-what if he dies and never knows how sorry I am for all those times I was horrible to him, all those times I never stood up for him?" For that time I did the unforgivable? He hugged her tighter.

"He knows," he assured her gently. "Darling, I can see he loves you. From the day he made your axe to that last time, when he came to your house during training, his eyes lit when he spoke of you. I think you know that. And at the end, when it really mattered, you were the only person there for him."

Astrid was set by Gothi to sit with Hiccup and the girl gratefully agreed. The Elder missed very little and had heard her words and seen how she looked at the boy. The girl was assigned to hold his hand and feed him water and medicines at regular intervals. So Astrid did as she was told, diligently dripping water from a spoon over his white, cracked lips and watching his thin throat move almost imperceptibly as he swallowed. And in between, she held his cold hand, her thumb stroking over his dextrous, calloused fingers and she talked to him. She couldn't recall what she said but it was everything about Astrid Hofferson-from what she recalled of them as children, of her training, her hopes and dreams, her wish to become as good a rider as he was, her desire to make everything up to him.

When she was exhausted, she lay her head down by him and slept uncomfortably, holding his hand. And when she woke, she cared for him some more. She only left to do the barest of necessities and she even ate at his side. It was only when the door slammed open and the huge shape of Stoick entered, two days after they arrived back, that she stood up.

"How is he?"he asked roughly. His eyes swept over the still form and he sighed.

"He hasn't woken," she admitted. "And he has a fever. Gothi is worried."

"Son," Stoick said, taking his cold hand.

No response. He stared into the relaxed, battered face and gently stroked it with on large finger.

"He's cold," he noted.

"He's alive," Astrid reminded him, her eyes gently caressing the boy. The Chief stared at him, then looked up at the Elder.

"Can I take him home?" he asked.


	23. Chapter Twenty Three

**Twenty Three**

 

Days passed and Hiccup didn't wake. Despite being lodged in his bed in the main room of the Chief's house, he worsened. The fever wracked his body and his breathing grew harsh and shallow. His pallid skin flushed and his leg grew scarlet and hot and swollen. Astrid, Stoick and Gobber took turns in sitting with the boy, trickling water and weak broth and medicine into his mouth, cooling his burning body with compresses and talking to him.

Astrid almost resented sharing her time with Stoick but she had Stormfly to take care of and she loved flying, though she wished Hiccup was at her side. And she spent time with Toothless-Toothless who wasn't allowed in the house, no matter how much he howled and scratched. Toothless who couldn't fly without Hiccup. Toothless who loved Hiccup. So she petted and fussed over the dragon, making sure he fed and groomed. But she was sitting on the cliff overlooking the harbour with both dragons as the sun set when Stormfly turned sharply and the edge of her wing slashed her arm. Astrid hissed and the dragon turned back, distraught. The girl looked up and offered a watery smile. "It's okay, girl," she said softly. "It was an accident." But it was a deep, nasty cut and she clutched it tightly.

Suddenly, Toothless pushed forward, his eyes focussed on the cut. She pulled away but he growled and his tongue lapped over the wound, coating it in his sticky saliva. She pulled a face. "EEWW!" she exclaimed and made to wipe the spit away but he growled more and Stormfly cooed at her. She stared at him: he had treated her as a friend since Hiccup had accepted her and his actions were inexplicable but he was trying to tell her something. She sighed. "FINE!" she snapped. "It my arm gets infected and has to be chopped off, it will be your fault!"

But the next morning, the deep cut had completed healed. Only a faint red mark on her skin marked that it had ever been there. And then she stared up the hill at the black shape, sitting and howling outside the Chief's house. Hiccup had weakened further and what little flesh there was on his bones had melted away. She stroked her arm again and recalled the dragon trying to lick Hiccup's amputated leg-and the healers washing the saliva off with hot water. She began to run up the hill. She needed to check something.

She burst in and stole a glance at her friend, then dashed up the stairs to his room. His vest was lying tossed on the bed and she fumbled in and dragged out his journal, flipping it open and thumbing through the pages until she read the account of Toothless healing the wounds from his thrashing and the beating she had inflicted on him. The words he wrote at that point caused her to sob.

*I thought they would kill me. And though Snotlout has beaten me up for ever, the fact this was Astrid made it a thousand times worse. I love her…but I think she hates me. And I don't know why. I thought…I thought when she helped me before that she was starting not to despise me so much. But when she punched me, I just wanted to curl up and die because she has always been my dream and that blow shattered it. It broke my heart.*

But the other part of the entry was even more interesting.

*Night Fury saliva seems to have incredible healing powers. I knew it could heal wounds in a few hours, but Toothless was licking my face and I guess I swallowed some. I was feeling really horrible-I knew I had a fever after the beating and I barely made it to the cove. But the next morning, my fever was gone and I felt normal. Bruised and aching-which is normal for me, to be honest, but well.

I know its crazy but I know its not poisonous. I wonder…I wonder if I could give some to Dad? I can't admit it, of course, but if I put some in his mead, maybe he'll take it and maybe…MAYBE…it will help heal his wounds from the Nadder attack. Even if I am the most Useless viking ever, at least I can right that wrong. He saved my life: I should give him his back.*

And Astrid looked down at the powerful shape, sitting holding her friend's hand. Hiccup's breathing was shallower and he seemed to be fading. Stoick was now able to walk and run as usual, both arms moved and he seemed…healed. And she wracked her brains and realised it was only after he returned from the fruitless search for the Nest that he had suddenly improved. She stared at the boy once more. What had they got to lose anyway? Hiccup as dying-that was obvious. Toothless was his last hope.

Slowly, she walked down and passed the book to Stoick. He read it with a frown as she fed the boy water. She heard him grunt, his breath hitch and he threw the book to the floor.

"No," he said.

"Sir," she said and held her arm up. "This was a deep gash at sunset. Toothless licked it. It's gone." He shook his head. "We've been keeping Toothless from him. Toothless is his best friend. Hiccup thinks he is his only friend. And Hiccup is dying. Maybe Toothless will help him fight more. Maybe Toothless could help heal him. If we do nothing, you may as well load up the funeral boat now!" Her tone was fierce: she was fighting for his life, giving him his last chance.

He stared at her, his eyes almost empty except for horrible, all-consuming guilt.

"Don't let him die without his friend and trying every last thing," she whispered and he finally nodded. Before he could change his mind, she wrenched the door open and the Night Fury barrelled in, his growl causing them both to back away as he finally got to be with his friend. He nuzzled the little cold hand, sniffing his little Viking and smelling deep infection and death upon him. He howled and dragged at the sheets, ripping them away.

The boy was almost skeletal now, his skinny legs laying limp on the bed. Toothless licked at the infected stump, sniffing the telltale odour of putrefaction. His teeth ripped away the bandages and poultices and he licked and licked at the stump, his saliva coating the wound. He licked up the leg, then turned his attention to the cracked ribs and bruises. Finally, he licked frantically at the boy's face, saliva dripping into his mouth. Finally satisfied, the dragon gave a pathetic moan and laid his head by the limp hand and whimpered. Astrid patted his head and pulled the sheet back over the dying boy.

"It's okay, Toothless," she assured him. "I'll give him some water. You settle on the other side, boy. We'll do this together." And the dragon obediently trotted round the bed and stationed himself by Hiccup's other hand. Then she smiled at the Chief. "I'll stay with him, sir. I'm sure you have duties." Stoick stared at the boy, so pale he was almost gone, and shook his head.

"Nothing that's more important than my son," he said.

oOo

Hiccup's breathing grew shallower as the afternoon wore on and his father and friends sat by him. Stoick stared at his son and wondered if Hiccup would have been so reckless, so brave if he knew his father had cared for him. If Stoick had encouraged and supported his small son and given him proper direction and training, instead of spending his time undermining and crushing his son's confidence. The answer uncomfortably sat in his chest: no.

Towards sunset, Hiccup began moaning and writhing in the bed, his body drenched in sweat. He looked even paler and his skin was scalding. His auburn hair was flattened on his head, little tendrils stuck to his face. Then his terrified green eyes snapped open, glassy with delirium and seeing nothing. His back arched and he thrashed in the bed. Astrid clung to him and Stoick rose, his eyes stricken: he feared his son was dying.

"TOOTHLESS!" Hiccup screamed, his voice scratchy from dehydration and disuse. "TOOTHLESS!" And he writhed again, his hands stretching pitifully for contact. The dragon immediately rose to his feet and pressed his blunt nose straight against the questing hands, feeling the hot skin against his dry scales. The fingers splayed and the dragon pushed harder against him and then his hand closed gently on the dragon's face. The fear eased from his terrified features.

"Tooth…" Hiccup breathed then sagged, limp once more. Astrid and Stoick stared in horror, fearing he had died…but his toast rack chest gently rose and fell and the pulse was still bounding in his neck. Astrid scooped his free hand and pressed it to her face, her tears cool on his hot skin. Toothless positioned his head under the other hand, his presence easing the boy and Stoick stood at the foot of the bed, his hand lingering on the sheet, over the boy's remaining foot. And they remained there, a tableau of love surrounding the dying boy as the sun slowly set and the gloom embraced the house.

Slowly, Astrid raised her head. Hiccup's breathing had changed and somehow, it sounded better. The hand in her grasp was cooler, the pulse bounding in the boy's neck was slower and his breaths slower and easier. There was the very slightest hint of colour in his skin and lips and then hesitantly, she rested a hand on his forehead.

The skin was cool: his fever had broken. She looked up.

And she laughed. Stoick met her expression and a smile crossed his drawn features as well.

"He's…?" he breathed.

"Cool! His fever has come down!" Astrid confirmed, a tired smile on her face. "Hiccup? Can you hear me?"

But the boy lay still, breathing quietly and limp on the bed. Gently, she lifted the bowl and dribbled water over his lips into his dry mouth and he swallowed automatically. She gently wiped his mouth and then kissed his forehead.

"If you don't wake up, Haddock, I'll chop your other leg off!" she breathed into his ear but then kissed him again to let him know it wasn't a genuine threat. Stoick stared at her and realised the girl was very fond of his son. He inspected her more closely. He had never thought his son would actually have any friends, let alone an impressive and beautiful girl like Astrid. He cleared his throat.

"Not sure I could actually permit that, Astrid," he said in a low voice. She started and then smiled.

"Sir, I will never harm Hiccup," she promised. "I just want him to be well." Stoick sighed and gently stroked his foot.

"So do I," he said.

oOo

Hiccup's fever remained down all night and the next morning. Toothless licked furiously at the infected stump later that night and in the morning and Astrid carefully watched the dragon. He inspected his rider before he wandered outside for a basket of cod and a snooze. Astrid took it as a mark that he was less concerned about his rider. But he waited until Stoick arrived before she made her suggestion: a bath. Hiccup had been feverish and sick ever since the battle and a bath would make him feel a heap better.

The Chief agreed but had insisted that he do it: Astrid had disagreed but the Chief had argued his son was shy (which Astrid had reluctantly agreed with) and deserved to keep his dignity. In the end, they agreed that they would both wash Hiccup but that the Chief would handle the more personal areas. So Astrid brought the bowl of warm water and soap and some rags and the two began to gently and methodically bathe and dry the thin and shrunken body of the Chief's son. Tenderly, she washed his face and gently washed his hair, drying it with a towel and running her fingers through the auburn locks. Astrid winced at his bruises, still horrible to see so long after the battle. But she gently bathed him, attending to his back and sides as Stoick held him still. They washed his trunk and right leg and then Astrid tenderly cleaned his infected stump. Finally, she walked to the door to allow the Chief to finish and the man stared down at the emaciated body of his son, still unconscious and sleeping.

Hiccup's face had regained a little flush of colour but his cheeks had become sunken and his arms and legs stick-like. He was clean and the infected stump was slightly pinker and drier than the previous day. Against all reason, the dragon had helped his son-whether by his supposedly-magical spit or by the reassurance and presence that his son so desperately craved Stoick wasn't sure. All he was sure was that there was now a good chance that his son would live. So he acted like a father and stripped the underwear from the limp body before carefully washing his son as he had when the boy was a small child.

His eyes misted: Hiccup had been a tiny child but packed with energy and mischief-though all totally innocent. He was insatiably curious, innocent, stubborn and friendly. He caused chaos because he wanted to find out what was happening and be self-sufficient. He wanted to make his father proud and his defiance and determination had warmed the Chief. So when had Stoick begun to despise his only child? He couldn't quite recall but he guessed it was around the age of nine or ten when work in the forge hadn't make Hiccup bigger and stronger and his own son became more and more disappointing in comparison to his cousin and the other children. And so Stoick, instead of helping and training his son to overcome his physical deficiencies, had shouted and bullied the boy, humiliating the lad before the village for his perceived weakness.

He gently dried the pallid body before him. How many times had he struck the boy? How many times had he screamed his disappointment at Hiccup, each word flaying him worse than any whip? This was his only son, the boy who had defeated the monster and saved the village. The boy who had…healed him? He lifted his right arm and clenched his fist: it was suddenly back to normal, as strong and dexterous as his left. It was as if he had never been injured. But Gothi had said he would always be weak. Only Hiccup had not given up-and his son had paid for that determination in the most cruel verbal abuse Stoick could muster.

Redressed in clean skivvies and lying now on a fresh sheet and furs, Stoick leaned forward and kissed his son. "Come back to us soon, son," he murmured.


	24. Chapter Twenty Four

**Twenty** - **Four**.

News of Hiccup's improvement swept through the village and the Hooligans responded as they usually did: with generosity. The village that had ignored, taunted, bullied, ostracised and finally cast out their saviour forgot about their hatred and scorn of the boy and showered him with gifts. Stock found his door being knocked with pies, stew, promises of meals for the next month, salted fish ('to help the boy build up his strength, Odin save him'), tunics, leggings, winter furs, new boots ('sorry-boot'), fur mittens, bedding, daggers, swords, shields, carvings, bowls and-most touchingly-books from Fishlegs, the twins and Astrid.

Once Hiccup was out of imminent danger, Gobber measured his amputated leg against his good and set to work to create a prosthesis. Normally, Vikings lost limbs in battles with the dragons in adulthood and a simple peg leg was sufficient. But Hiccup was an active, scrawny boy who needed to ride his dragon. He needed a leg that would enable him to walk and run and ride again. And that needed every ounce of his knowledge, every day of Gobber's years as blacksmith to create something unique. And so he did, a standard wooden padded cup attached to a strong spring mechanism and an iron foot to support his body, a wider base to grant him secure purchase and ability to walk on all terrains.

But still Hiccup did not wake, even though his fever had broken over ten days earlier, even though his stump had healed miraculously (with Toothless's help) and his few remaining bruises were minor. They had dressed him in fresh tunic and leggings and cleaned his old, comfortable boot. Astrid and Stoick washed him daily and made sure he was fed water and broth but Toothless never left him. Finally, Astrid left to fly her dragon with the others and Stock stepped out for a moment to speak with the Elders.

"Watch him, Toothless," the Chief had charged him and the dragon nodded, his luminous green orbs locked on the boy. The door closed and Toothless peered at the boy. He smelled _different_. Hiccup's head arched back slightly and his lips parted slightly. He took a deeper breath and the dragon silently slid to the ground, then inched forward and nuzzled the boy's hand. Hiccup's eyes fluttered. Toothless nudged him again and his eyes slowly fluttered open, the confused green depths slowly focussing on the room. And the black head with the wide, excited green eyes facing him.

"Hey…" he breathed and focussed. His head felt stuffed with wool, his mouth was sandpaper dry and his back ached. He frowned: he was home. How had he got here? "Toothless," he murmured in a dry rasp, turning to inspect his friend. Toothless was overjoyed and bounced on the boy. "Ow!" he grunted as the dragon landed on his half-healed ribs. Then he blinked. "I'm-I'm in my house!" he realised. _Hadn't_ _he_ _been_ _exiled_? Then he frowned. Toothless was scrambling up to the rafters and grinning. "You're in my house!" he added in shock as Toothless bounced down and knocked over a pair of mugs (gifts from the Larssons). "Does-does my Dad know?" he asked in a confused voice. The dragon capered excitedly again and the boy threw the covers off the bed to stop the dragon destroying his father's home.

_Why_ _did_ _he_ _feel_ _so_ _weak_?

And then stared at his lower half and froze. His right leg was as normal, his small furry boot curled inwards as usual but the other leg ended about six inches below the knee, the end of his leggings tucked up and revealing a wood and metal prosthesis.

He had lost his left foot.

_He_ _had_ _lost_ _his_ _left_ _foot_!

Suddenly, he could barely breathe and he felt his pulse accelerate. He just stared: it hardly seemed fair. He was already so abnormal in the eyes of the village-small, weak, left-handed-and now he was also one-legged. It would just make his life worse and no one would ever believe he could be a proper Viking. _Ever_.

But then he consciously calmed himself, slowing his breathing and allowing his eyes to linger on the metal. He was the worst Viking in the history of Berk-but he had trained a Night Fury, won dragon training and defeated a giant dragon the size of a mountain. He was hated and despised but he had saved the village. He had survived his horrible life so far: he would come through this. He was a Viking, a Hooligan of Berk and he would not be afraid.

At least they were already used to calling him ' _Useless_ '.

So he swung his legs slowly over the side of the bed, setting his good foot down and then anxiously sliding the metal onto the floor. He looked worriedly at his dragon and Toothless crooned reassuringly as he stood by his rider, sniffing the metal foot approvingly. Then Hiccup slowly levered himself to his feet and straightened up, his hands rising from the bed frame. He gave a watery smile. And then he took a step.

His amputated leg collapsed, a white hot knife of pain stabbing up his leg from the tender and supersensitive stump. He bit down a cry and slumped sideways, tensed to crash to the floor but Toothless was there to catch him and he rested gratefully against the warm reptile. Toothless gently pushed him back to his feet and he caught his breath. Despite his brave promise to himself, he was still afraid.

"Thanks, bud," he murmured. "OK, OK…" Leaning on his dragon like a living crutch, Hiccup half-limped, half-hopped to the door, wondering where his father was. He guessed the fact that he was still in Berk meant his Dad had probably revoked his banishment but even so, he was still nervous at seeing his father. He had experienced such vivid dreams while he had been asleep…and they hadn't been good ones. He knew some had been about his father and he could feel his pulse accelerate as he tried to claw at the memories. He shook himself, gave Toothless a worried look and then pulled the door open-and then flinched. He slammed the door closed, for a Monstrous Nightmare had just flown by!

He paused for a long moment, breathing hard. "Stay here!" he commanded the dragon, uncertain what he would find, then pulled it open and slid out, leaning heavily on the door.

There was indeed a Monstrous Nightmare with Snotlout on its back, flying lazily by. The Heir was shouting to the twins, who bellowed back, messing about on the twin necks of a Zippleback. Dragons of all sorts were perched on roofs, the plaza and anywhere they could sun themselves. And there was no conflict, no screams, no burning…nothing. It seemed the war was over.

And the Vikings and dragons seemed to be co-existing very happily.

"I knew it-I'm dead," Hiccup said dryly, scanning the village. He felt lightheaded and wondered if he was still dreaming or worse, in Valhalla (though why in Odin's name would Snotlout be there?).

"No-but you gave it your best shot!" Stoick told him, coming up and putting his arm around Hiccup's shoulders. The boy stiffened and instinctively hunched his shoulders against his father but the grasp was gentle and warm and after an awkward moment, he glanced up-to meet his father's twinkling eyes. There was not one shred of disappointment there as he stood proudly by his amazed son and Hiccup slowly untensed-though not completely. His stomach was fluttering with apprehension. "So-what do you think?" Stoick asked, gesturing to the village. Hiccup limped forward, feeling slightly easier as he moved safely out of his father's embrace and stared warily as the cry went up from Snotlout:

"Hey look-it's Hiccup!" Fishlegs waved and villagers surged forward, eager to greet the recovered hero. Hiccup shied away, his fear of being surrounded suddenly swamping him. Stoick sensed his anxiety and protectively slid his arm around the boy's shoulders-but Hiccup went absolutely stiff. He looked up, panicking, then pulled away and stumbled back to the house, almost collapsing through the door and slamming it closed, then leaning against it, hyperventilating.

"I-I can't…" he gasped, squeezing his eyes closed and pressing his head into his hands. He heard voices and cries outside and he cringed, his leg giving way and dropping him onto the floor. He gave a low cry as he jarred the sensitive stump and his healing ribs. But when he heard footsteps approaching, panic enveloped him. Petrified, he crawled awkwardly back to his bed, scrambled round the far side and curled up in a small ball, burying his face in his arms. Toothless ambled worriedly round to him and nudged the boy, crooning quizzically. His large green eyes inspected the boy and rubbed against him hard. "I-I can't, bud," he murmured thickly. "I can't face them now. I…" He wrapped his arms around Toothless's head and hugged him, burying his face against the hot scaly neck.

The door slammed open and he flinched, clinging tighter to the dragon as the heavy stomp of steps closed. His father loomed over the bed and found his son, hiding as he had when he was a tiny child and knew he had done something wrong. He frowned, his big face uncomprehending. Hiccup had woken, he was a hero and his neighbours had wanted to greet him: why had he run? "What's wrong, son?"

Hiccup lifted his head, his eyes wide and face pale. "I can't face them, Dad," he murmured. "I'm sorry." Stoick frowned at him and took a step closer, causing Toothless to give a low growl.

"But they are just pleased to see you," he told the boy, his tone brisk. He couldn't understand the problem. "And relieved you've woken. They only want to tell you how proud they are…"

" _Get_ _back_ _inside_ "

" _Out_ _the_ _way_ , _Useless_!"

" _He_ _can_ _never_ _do_ _anything_ _right_!"

" _Do_ _us_ _a_ _favour_ _and_ _get_ _eaten_ _by_ _a_ _dragon_ , _runt_!"

"You _should_ _have_ _been_ _floated_ _out_ _to_ sea _as_ _a_ _baby_!"

"I don't think they do," Hiccup said softly, hugging his knees against his chest. "They-they've never said anything like that before." He paused. "No one's proud of me." Stoick couldn't help the scowl on his face.

"I am!" he snapped and Hiccup flinched again.

"I'll screw up and you'll go back to shouting at me," he said dully, curling up harder. "I'm sorry, Dad."

"I can't see what the problem is," Stoick said gruffly, rubbing the bridge of the nose. "Get up and go and talk to them, Hiccup! You're well enough to get out of bed, so…you have a duty to your Tribe." Hiccup was shaking his head, blinking hard against the tears that burned against his eyelids. The door opened and Snotlout, Fishlegs and the twins entered.

"Hey-where'd you go?" Snotlout asked sharply. Hiccup cringed back, trying to vanish behind the Night Fury. "C'mon, Hic-your adoring public awaits…"

"theycanwait…" Hiccup mumbled, inching further behind Toothless. "go'way…" The others stared at him in shock as the door opened again and a windswept Astrid joined the party. She took one look at the scene and stomped forward.

"OUT!" she snapped, waving her arms at the visitors. "Thor-he's been in a coma for three weeks! The last thing he needs are you idiots crowding around him! GO!" And she turned and began shooing them away. Snotlout scowled but didn't argue with her, catching the irritation in her face. Fishlegs looked up timidly.

"See ya later," he called and turned away with the twins waving and leaving as well. Stoick glared at her but Astrid had an inkling from the talk before the battle.

"Sir-could we have a minute?" she asked respectfully. Stoick scowled but gave a curt nod and turned away, the door slamming pointedly behind him. Astrid inched slowly round the bed and then stopped, a good couple of yards shy of him, then settled onto her knees and sat back on her heels. "Hiccup?" she asked neutrally as Toothless moved over to let her see him. He lifted his head, peering warily from behind his shaggy hair.

"Hi-hi Astrid…" he managed. He was trembling. She wanted to go closer and hold his hand as she had for so many days but her instincts told her he wasn't ready.

"It's good to see you awake," she tried.

"Um…yeah, I think…" he managed. She frowned.

"What happened?" she asked him carefully and he slowly uncoiled. He looked ashamed.

"I…think I panicked…" he murmured. "They were all coming towards me, all of them. And the only time they ever came at me was when I had really screwed up and Dad was about to scream at me again. People around me meant I was going to be beaten. I-I suddenly felt as if I couldn't breathe…I ran inside…" Astrid inspected him, then rocked to her feet and walked to the table, then poured him a mug of water. Carefully, she walked back to him and offered the mug.

"Drink," she said gently. He grasped it and she saw his hand was trembling. Quietly, he took a sip. "More. You've been unconscious for three weeks. We've barely got enough food and water down you to keep you alive. Now that you're awake, Gothi says we need to get way more down you to build up all the weight you've lost and let your body heal." He took another shaky sip and then shook his head.

"It'll never heal," he said dully, moving his left leg slightly. The prosthesis clicked. She settled down on her knees again, a couple of feet in front of him.

"Some things can never be exactly as they were," she conceded. "Sometimes being different is actually an improvement. Sometimes healing takes a long time and may never be complete." She sighed. "But it doesn't mean you shouldn't make every effort." He took another sip and turned the mug over in his hands. It was a new piece, something he had never seen before. He wondered when his Dad had got it. Astrid watched him carefully. "You know, I've been sitting by your bed, day and night since Stormfly and I brought you back," she told him with a snap of irritation in her voice. "And you have to wake when I take half an hour off to take Stormfly round the harbour." He inspected his water thoroughly. He was still trying to process what had happened. Toothless nudged him again and he managed a slight smile, glancing up at his friend.

"You named her?" he asked in a more normal voice. She gave a smile.

"It just seemed right," she said and her voice warmed. "She's amazing. I-I can really see what you meant about Toothless. I wouldn't be without her already. And I love flying!" He managed a wan smile.

"So do I," he murmured and then moved his left leg again. "But I really can't see how I can continue…" And then the door slammed open and Gobber lumbered in, followed by Stoick, who had decided enough was enough. Hiccup stared up at his visitors and steeled himself. His father looked mad again and he guessed he had disappointed his father.

"Hiccup! Yer up!" Gobber exclaimed cheerily and the boy managed a more genuine grin at the sight of his old mentor. He leaned on Toothless and managed to scramble to his feet. "How yer feeling, lad?" Hiccup shrugged.

"m'okay," he mumbled.

"Yer know, it looks like this village needed more of this…" and he gestured to Hiccup.

"You gestured to all of me," the boy noted warily. This part of the conversation never usually went well. Gobber grinned.

"Actually, that bit's my handiwork," he admitted, gesturing to Hiccup's foot with the bundle of metal, rope and leather in his arms. "With a little Hiccup flair thrown in. You think it'll do?" he asked. Hiccup lifted the prosthetic leg slightly, grateful for the distraction and inspected it in more detail. He shrugged, his agile mind already analysing the leg and contemplating modifications. As Gobber knew he would.

"I might make a few tweaks," he admitted wryly. Stoick walked forward slowly and he stared at his son before fiddling with his belt. He was clearly feeling uncomfortable.

"Son, I have wronged you," he said slowly. He stared at the thin boy before him, standing very close to the suspicious looking black dragon. "Badly. I know I said I was proud of you when you went to fight that monster. And I meant it. But now…I can see what you meant. Those beasts…truly aren't what we thought." He walked to the door and flung it open, to demonstrate the dragons and Vikings living in peace. "I would have destroyed the Tribe. You tried to warn me and, when that didn't work and despite my cruel and unjust sentence, you came to save us. Your banishment is revoked. You are not Outcast. You are my son. And I could not be more proud!"

Stoick smiled and nodded proudly. Hiccup's heart soared: that was the look he had been seeking for and this time, it was earned. No tricks, no lies: Stoick had seen who his son was, what his son could do and he approved. Only all it took was losing my leg and nearly my life, he thought suddenly and felt the pressure in his chest suddenly increase. Thinking about that flight still made him feel light-headed and scared.

"Th-thanks," he murmured. "Dad, I…"

"Oh-Gobber has something for you as well!" Stoick interrupted and the boy subsided, lowering his head and sighing. Every time he thought he could perhaps tell his father how he truly felt, the man spoke over him. He stared at the floor, a knot in the wood catching his attention. He forced himself to breathe slowly and felt the pressure ease. And then Gobber bustled back up and handed him the armful of equipment he had been carrying: his repaired saddle, stirrups and tailfin, new red leather replacing the burnt away original.

"Welcome home," Gobber told him. Hiccup half-wondered if he was still dreaming-he almost couldn't believe what was happening. His Dad proud, his village acknowledging him, Astrid being friendly towards him-and the dragons accepted.

_I_ _am_ _definitely_ _dead_ , he thought again. But his mind was still reeling from his father's words and he decided this was definitely better than…anything else. Until it all goes horribly wrong…

The villagers were slowly gathering, able to see the recovered Hiccup through the door. They still wanted to greet him and hadn't understood why he ran away. They would never understand what they had done to him. Not actually reassured, Hiccup stared and slowly limped forward, his dragon beside him, supporting his very unstable gait as they crowded towards the boy. He reached the doorway and stopped, making sure they couldn't surround him. There were murmurs of 'Night Fury!' and his hand rested harder on Toothless's head. The dragon nuzzled him affectionately. Then a hundred questions bombarded him, half of which were "How are you?"

He nodded and ghosted a watery smile then mumbled 'I'm okay, thanks," quietly. He could feel his heart thudding in his chest. He stared at the floor, wishing they would back off and hoped he wouldn't start trembling or something equally humiliating. Stoick came up behind him and he stiffened but his father merely waved the villagers back.

"Give him some space, for Thor's sake!" he grumbled. "Boy's almost been sick unto death. He needs his air."

"Sorry, Chief," came a dozen apologies and they backed away. Hiccup blinked and stroked Toothless.

"I need to go flying," he said suddenly. "Gobber…I need your help in getting the tail on…"

Hiccup glanced over to Astrid for support. "You said a lap around the harbour?" he asked her with a slight hopeful smile. She closed to within touching distance and gave him a stern look.

"Gobber can help you put that tail on AFTER you eat something, you…fishbone, you!" she scolded him tartly. He felt the anxiety ease and found himself grinning. With Toothless, he felt stronger. He felt more like he used to be. And when Astrid said it, 'fishbone' didn't really sound like an insult.

"Hey-there's more than enough raw Vikingness to go round!" he quipped timidly, lifting a thin arm to demonstrate his lack of muscles. He still felt safer with her than with anyone else-Thor only knew why. He recalled that first punch, the way the sight of her hate-filled face and the impact on his face had broken his heart, but before that, she had saved him from a worse hurt by Snotlout. He had loved her forever and she had despised him even longer...until now? Sure, he was still wary but she had been the only one who understood why he had run-and Thor knew she was making the effort. Had she really sat by his bed for three weeks? She grabbed his loose green tunic and leaned close to him, her eyes twinkling. He found he didn't flinch because he believed she wouldn't hurt him.

"You-Mr Viking-are so scrawny that there's enough room in that tiny tunic for another person with you!" she pointed out. He smirked.

"You volunteering?" he asked her teasingly. He already knew the answer, though. She huffed and shook her head.

"Not my colour!" she retorted, backing out of personal space. She knew not to push her luck though she was relieved at how he had reacted. Besides, she had more important things to do, though she was glad he could still find the courage to banter with her. After all those days by his side, recalling how she had wronged him-ignored him, abandoned him, harmed him-she really wanted to do her best to make it up to him. Even if he never felt able to fully forgive her, she could tell there was a chance he might. Possibly. Eventually.

"Food NOW!" she snapped "Or I swear, I will put you BACK in that coma!" Stoick frowned.

"Now, Astrid, I don't think…" he began but she turned on him.

"Are you saying he doesn't need to eat something per Gothi's instructions?" she demanded. He backed off.

"Er, son-back inside. Now!" he replied. "The harbour isn't going away and can wait until after lunch. You too, Toothless!" he added to the dragon and Toothless gave a resigned warble. He had been grounded for three weeks: he could wait another hour.

Once he had managed most of his chicken and cabbage broth, bread and dried fruit, Gobber helped him fit the repaired saddle, tail and gearing mechanism and he noted the blacksmith-with typical Gobber ingenuity-had modified the control medal to enable him to clip his prosthetic leg safely into the pedal. He had insisted on putting his flight vest and safety lines on and explained why he had been so obsessive-and how he fell. The blacksmith had closed a hand on his arm-just enough to reassure the boy he understood-and then he stood back as Astrid on Stormfly walked to his side. He tilted his metal leg, worried that he wouldn't be as skilled in working the tail assembly as he had been-but Astrid was right: it was a skill. And he was willing to put the hard hours in, relearning how to fly with his bud. The new fin was bright red with a Viking's head, complete with horned helmet, emblazoned on the red leather.

"You ready?" he asked the dragon and Toothless gave a little growl. He couldn't wait to get back in the air! So Hiccup took a quick look across the village where dragons and Vikings now lived in peace, before Toothless leapt into the sky and he and Astrid zoomed around the cliffs and houses together starting their lap.

Below them, Gobber walked slowly up to Stoick and he was not alone.

"We need to talk," he said grimly.


	25. Chapter Twenty Five

**Twenty Five.**

Below the soaring dragons, Gobber walked up to Stoick. He wasn't alone and he was looking troubled.

"We need to talk," the blacksmith said grimly. The Chief turned to see his friend and saw him holding Hiccup's journal. For so many years of bullying and isolation, Hiccup had no friends and the only place he could confide his fears, worries and thoughts was the inanimate book. He handed it to Stoick and opened it at the point they had marked with a scrap of leather. "Astrid found this when she was reading his journal as he slept," he said unselfconsciously. Stoick read the runes, his brow dipping as he scanned the words:

" _It's all my fault. Dad is dying and it is all my fault._

_I shouldn't have done it. I should have stayed in the forge like I'm ordered to do, but I saw Gustav sneak out and get cornered by three Nadders. They were going to kill him-and he's only a young kid. Only Olaf Hofferson was near and I know he can't run. So I grabbed a sword and charged them. I was praying my Dad wouldn't find out-I don't want to shame him any more-especially when they scattered. I shouted at Gustav to run and he did-but then they had me. I tried to keep them back. I thought I was going to die and to be honest, it actually would probably be for the best._

_I mean, Gustav is loved by his family and has two sisters and a baby brother to look after. My Dad hates me, my Mum is dead, Snotlout and the others beat me up every single day and the village treats me like dirt. Only Gobber shows any kindness. If I just died, then everything would be okay. My Dad could move on, maybe marry again and have the son he's always wanted, not the disappointing runt he always calls me._

_But Dad came. He always comes. He attacked them with such power, such ferocity, I was so proud to be his son. But they caught him off guard and he was hit by loads of spines. There was blood everywhere and they got away as he fell. He had saved my life-but at the cost of his own._

_Why? Why when he despises me so much? He's the Chief-he should let me go. He has much more important things to worry about than me._

_I was screaming and crawling to him. I wanted him to know, to apologise, to hug him to let him know I am his son and I love him. But they held me back and screamed at me. It was ALL my fault. I shouldn't be out._

_No one would listen._

_And then Spitelout and Snotlout started to beat me. I mean really beat me. Every blow was utter torment. My vision went red, my ribs were broken, every part of my body was pounded into the ground and still they kept hitting me. I knew they were going to kill me. I just cried for my Dad, struggled to get to him while I could. I didn't want him to die without him feeling my touch one last time. I didn't want to die without saying goodbye. Saying sorry._

_But they just kept hitting me._

_Until Gobber came and shouted for them to stop. I was the Heir-I couldn't be slain while Dad was so sick._

_Funny. It's the only time that being the Heir has spared me one moment of pain. But instead, it condemned me to worse. I wanted to die-and they made me live. They took Dad to Gothi. But they left me lying on the dirt, bleeding and pleading to see him. And even when I managed to crawl to Gothi's, when I begged and pleaded, they wouldn't let me see him. Even when I collapsed from concussion and bloodless and broken bones, they kept me away from him._

_He must hate me so much now. He must think I am disobedient and didn't even care when he almost died for me. No one listened. No one helped me. They all hate me too._

_I don't know what I'll do if he dies. I suspect Spitelout will kill me anyway. But if he lives…I dare not even consider what Dad will do to me, what he will think of me. I guess he'll exile me but he may just kill me._

_It would be a relief. Because the only time I did anything my Dad might be proud of, it almost cost us both our lives and he will never know. He'll be told what other people think happened and I will be shunned and destroyed by it. I hope he kills me because ultimately, it will be a relief..."_

_S_ toick blinked back tears. He had no clue, no inkling how desperate, his cold his son's life had been. And how little the boy wanted to live under such appalling conditions. But worse, the tale of that night was so different to what he-and everyone else-knew that he almost felt lightheaded. If this was true, the boy had been so dreadfully wronged he couldn't see any way that his village and he could ever put things right. He looked up at the two people standing by Gobber: Olaf Hofferson and Gustav Larsson.

"Is it true?" he asked. Olaf Hofferson nodded.

"And you didn't speak up?" Stoick was suddenly angry.

"Spitelout and his son were murdering the boy. I am nobody-not a warrior, not an Elder, not rich. Who is going to listen to my opinion over the Jorgensons? I tried to shout for him but the rest were baying for his blood. Believe me, it's pretty horrific to see an entire village crying for a grown man and powerful boy to beat a scrawny undersized lad to death! No one would listen!" The Chief stared then sadly shook his head, grasping the man's shoulder and absolved him of blame. He knew his brother and his nephew too well. Then he leaned down to face the small boy. Gustav was three or four years younger than Hiccup-a small, sturdy lad with bright eyes, dark hair and a penchant for mischief.

"Were you out during that raid where I was injured?" he asked the lad. Gustav stared up, not intimidated by the huge Chief. He nodded.

"I wanted to see the dragons," he admitted. "Too spiky!" was his overconfident verdict.

"Why didn't you admit you were out?" the Chief asked him. "My son saved your life. He…"

"He didn't really save it, did he?" the boy said suddenly. "He had to be rescued by you anyway and everyone says he's Useless so how could he have saved my life?" Stoick winced.

"Who came and drove the dragons away so that you could escape with your life?" the Chief asked him sternly. Gustav's eyes widened at the angry tone. He sighed.

"Hiccup," he admitted.

"And saying that could have saved him so much pain and unhappiness," Stoick sighed. Gustav looked up.

"Why?" he asked bluntly. "Everyone hated him anyway. You hated him. So why should I be made into an outcast by speaking up for him?" Stock groaned.

"Out of the mouths of babes…" Gobber murmured. "You have to take the lead in this, Stoick. You have to tell the truth. You have to right some of the wrongs that have been done to your son. And some people will resist because they don't want a runt to be accepted or because they have done pretty well out of pushing Hiccup aside." The Chief stared at him. "If you want to make things up to him, of course."

"You know I do," Stoick sighed. "But it may take some organising." Gobber stared at him.

"There's one other thing you may want to consider," he mentioned. "We haven't celebrated the end of the war…or the end of dragon training…" Stoick rolled his eyes.

"This year's class was cancelled…" he argued. Gobber winked.

"I would say…postponed," he argued. "The final exam was for the leading student to kill his first dragon in front of the village, wasn't it?" Stoick stared at his friend and then blinked. He turned to Olaf Hofferson.

"Not a word to anyone-including your daughter-and I will ensure that you are given the rewards you deserve for what you have done today," he said genuinely. "And you, young master Larsson-if one word of this gets out, I will feed you to Snotlout's Monstrous Nightmare. Clear?" Gustav gulped.

"Yessir!" he said and ran off. Stoick turned to Gobber.

"Call a meeting of the Elders!" he ordered. "And see that Olaf Hofferson is invited. We need to sort this out, once and for all!"


	26. Chapter Twenty Six

**Twenty Six**

When he got back from his ride, Hiccup was exhausted, aching and light-headed. And Gothi was waiting for him, watching his antics with a disappointed scowl. He jumped off Toothless and his left leg buckled immediately, only just catching himself. His head bowed and his hand was clamped onto Toothless's saddle for support. Gothi scratched a series of symbols in the dirt and the boy stared dully. His head was spinning and he was starting to feel sick. Astrid saw him turn white and grabbed his arm before he could fold and she hastily bundled him back onto Toothless.

"Get him into the house!" she snapped and the Night Fury obeyed, taking the boy to the bed and carefully shrugging the exhausted boy onto the bed. He gave a weak smile as he landed and lay on his side, breathing hard.

"Sorry," he mumbled. "I may've overdone it…"

"Which is exactly what Gothi just said!" Astrid told him, following with the Elder. "Hiccup-you were unconscious for THREE WEEKS! And you just woke up-and guess what? You went flying straight away. You even wanted to go out without eating!" Hiccup glanced up and read genuine concern about him and gave a watery smile.

"Gee, Astrid-I never knew you cared…" he murmured. She punched his shoulder and he yelped.

"Ow!" he said. "What the…?" You promised you wouldn't hurt me!

"That's for scaring me!" she told him, her tone concerned. You will never know how scared I was that you would die and I would never be able to tell you how sorry I was-and how much I want to make it up to you!

"Is-is it always going to be this way?" he asked her in a hurt voice. He was still aching from his crash and that had really hurt! He grabbed the bruised area tenderly.

"What do you think all this is about?" she snapped. "What did I promise when you took me on that first flight? I said I was your friend. I hope…hope you realise that I am your friend and I am so, so sorry about how I treated you before…" He rolled slightly to face her and he inspected her closely. There were about a hundred ways he could respond: anger, disappointment, bitterness, sorrow…or he could be Hiccup. He blinked and then focussed his shining green eyes on her.

"I can't pretend that the way you ignored and treated me for years didn't hurt, Astrid, because it did," he said to her softly. She stiffened, fear flashing in her cerulean gaze: he hasn't forgiven me… "And when Dragon Training happened, you were absolutely horrible and cruel to me. I honestly don't know what I did wrong. All I did was what were supposed to-for once. And you found out about Toothless and threatened to tell my Dad." He found he was breathing hard and his voice was growing louder. She had beaten him up then as well. Oh gods, he shouldn't have thought of that. That horrific night when she had half-killed him. He swallowed and forced himself to be calm. He could see Astrid was trembling.

Astrid-trembling? Wow-this was far more important than he had guessed-to both of them. And it made his honesty all the more important.

"But I fell in love with you when I was ten, Astrid," he said quietly, his tone wistful. "At that time, you still looked at me like I wasn't a piece of yak dung and when I made your axe, I did it for my friend. I made the best damned weapon I have ever made, before or since. When you never said anything, I wondered if you were ashamed that I had made it and I said nothing. But it became clear you just despised me. Though I never stopped loving you and wanting you, one day, to treat me like…a friend. And when you found Toothless, you were vulnerable and Toothless really wanted to drop you. But I would never harm you. I wanted you to be my friend, even then."

_Toothless-what are you doing? We need her to like us!_

"But you changed on that flight. Maybe you saw that there was at least one thing I could do without being Hiccup the Useless." His tone had grown sarcastic and she blushed. She had never used the name but she knew it had eaten at him over the years. "And you were with me when we saw what we were facing. You allowed me to face the final exam in my own way-and you stood by me when it all went catastrophically wrong." He sighed. "And you made me believe in myself when I had given up and accepted my fate. You gave me the impetus, the courage to do something crazy…" And they both smiled.

"Hiccup…" she said softly. He sighed.

"Please, let me finish, Astrid," he said wearily. "I guess, what I'm trying to say-eventually-is that my life has been horrible but I never really stopped loving you and I'm grateful and happy you are in my life now. I will never forget what you did to me, Astrid and I'm not sure if I can every truly trust you. Maybe one day…

But think I will forgive you, Astrid. I almost did on that flight. I just hope…maybe…we can be…friends?"

Nothing more. The yearning for his first love was still there but could he ever forgive someone who had hurt him so badly enough for that level of trust, of vulnerability? He didn't know the answer. His heart was screaming at him to give her the chance…maybe one day. But every protective instinct reminded him of that night and the dark side to Astrid that he had to fear.

But friendship…he really hoped that she wanted to be his friend. She had demonstrated since she met Toothless who she really was. The little note of hope in his voice was heart-breaking as he stared into his eyes. She had kissed him after that flight-presumably a once in a lifetime event, spent three weeks at his side as he lay unconscious (though, of course, he had no way of knowing that) and risked banishment for speaking with him when shunned but there was still the horribly scarred and beaten down boy inside who still doubted that she would want to be his friend. She took a step forward and took his hand.

"You idiot!" she told him simply. "I am your friend. I will always be there for you. And if you think anything else, you're stupider than you look!" There was an uncertain flash in his green eyes so she grabbed his tunic, hauled him forward and pecked a brief kiss on his lips. When she pulled away, his eyes were astonished and he was scarcely breathing. As she inspected him, he pulled back again and swallowed, his cheeks flaring scarlet.

"I see," he murmured. "Much better than being punched!" She dropped him back and he exhaled sharply. "OOF! Why is it always violence with you?" he complained lightly. She felt happier that he felt enough confidence to try to tease her: it was a new experience that she could get used to-because she knew his words were always underpinned with genuine affection. She perched on the bed.

"By the way," she said quietly, brushing the hair self-consciously out of her eyes, "I-erm-kinda read your journal while you were unconscious." His eyes suddenly flared with anxiety and he sighed.

"Oh," he said in a small voice. All the happiness seemed to have abruptly leached from his face. She shook her head.

"It wasn't like that!" she protested. "If I hadn't we wouldn't have known that Toothless's saliva can heal-and you would have died." He looked at her.

"Erm…did you show my Dad…?" he asked and then saw the answer in her eyes. He looked away again. "Oh gods," he murmured. "What-what part of private don't you understand?"

She dropped her head and looked ashamed. Astrid-ashamed? This certainly was a day of new experiences. Maybe he was dead after all.

"You-you were so sick and I was sitting up all night with you," she said. "I found it in your vest." He paused: he had been allowed to grab a couple of things from his home before he had been thrown out. In true Hiccup the Useless style, he had grabbed his journal, a charcoal and his belt knife. No food, warm clothing or bedding. "I just started reading…to try to get to know you better because I wondered if that was all I could do if we lost you."

He blinked. He hadn't really considered how sick he had been, how close to dying. He rubbed the back of his head in embarrassment.

"I read how awful things were for you, how alone you felt…how you really felt that you dying would be better for everyone." He sighed and felt the pressure of tears behind his eyes: he really didn't need reminding. It was too soon, to close to that raw pain to fight it off. Her words just brought it all back. But she took his hand in hers and pulled it close to her chest. "Don't you EVER think anything like that again!" she told him fiercely. "If you need someone to talk to or moan to or just be with-I am here." She heard the grumble of the Night Fury, who had stationed himself at the end of the bed. "Someone human," she amended with an apologetic smile to the dragon. Then she stared into his face and saw his eyes widen with surprise at her anger. But he still looked forlorn and she knew a few hours of being accepted wouldn't undo years of rejection. She knew what she had to tell him-and keep telling him every day until he believed it.

"You aren't Useless, Hiccup. You aren't unwanted. You aren't a screw-up. And you are loved. The whole village has been waiting to hear of your recovery. Have you seen the place?" She waved an arm around the house. "It's packed with gifts for YOU! Your Dad and you have invitations for supper for the next two months from every family in the town! They all realise how much they owe you and are trying-in their own stupid way-to make amends. As am I." He pulled her hand to his face and kissed it.

"Thanks, Milady," he murmured. "You don't know how much that means to me." She scowled. "Oh-kay…maybe you do…" he sighed. Then Gothi tapped him curtly with her staff. She had stood patiently during the entire exchange because it was something she needed to see. But now she needed to do her job. She scratched on the floor and Astrid peered at the runes.

"And Gothi says you need to rest because you have only just woken from a three week coma, you need to eat more because you are absolutely a walking fishbone now and she needs to see your stump because it needs tending," she read. He sighed.

"It does hurt," he admitted. More scratching.

"It will," Astrid read. "You will have to learn to walk properly again and deal with the pressure on the damaged stump. You will suffer phantom pains which can be excruciating-ask Gobber. I have a numbing lotion which will help. It was badly infected so the scar tissue will take longer to settle and will be worse than usual. All of this will delay your recovery but I have no doubt you will walk and run again as well as before."

"Which says it all about my abilities before," Hiccup murmured sarcastically. Gothi whacked him with her staff. He yelped. "Ow! That won't really help my recovery." Scratching.

"Don't interrupt!" Astrid read. She looked up and shared a glance with the boy. Both tried not to laugh. "Now-show me the leg!" Hiccup sighed and sat up, his inexpert fingers tugging up his leggings to reveal the padded cup over his truncated leg and fumbling with the unfamiliar straps of the prosthesis. He leaned close to Astrid as he managed to get them free.

"Astrid? She's scratched right into the floor boards! What am I going to tell my Dad?"


	27. Chapter Twenty Seven

**Twenty Seven**

Despite his protests, Hiccup fell asleep after the painful massage of his stump. He hadn't wanted to tell them that he was feeling utterly drained by the stresses of getting up and the ride but he felt he had no energy at all. Gothi could have told him it was a natural reaction to waking after a three-week coma on top of very heavy blood loss from his injury. Gothi and Astrid wrapped him in his blankets and let him sleep.

His father walked in a couple of hours later, seeing his son curled under the furs and his lips tilted in a small smile. The boy looked so small and vulnerable, his messy auburn hair flopped across his pale face, his hands curled against his chest. As the Chief watched, his son moved suddenly, his face twisting in a sudden expression of fear. His hand flung up in front of his face and his green eyes snapped open, feverish and unseeing. He was trembling.

"No," he moaned, writhing and trying to curl away. "Please, no….stop, please stop… ASTRID!"

He was back on that horrific night, helpless and heartbroken. Astrid was standing in front of him, her fists bunched. She smiled at him, her eyes cold and frightening. "You are cheating," she hissed. "No dragons allowed in Dragon Training!" He shook his head, his eyes pleading.

"Astrid, no…" he begged her. "I-I'm sorry. I'll let you win. Look-I let the dragon bite my leg off so you could win…"

She leaned close to him and her hand stroked across his shoulder, then brushed his cheek.

"You know, I only like Toothless because he's what made you interesting," she told him, her voice cold. "Without him, you're NOTHING! Did you think someone like me could ever like something like…you?" Her lips brushed his cheek. "OOPS! I kissed you-so now I get to hit you!"

"I-I didn't ask you to…" he whispered as she drew back her hand.

"NO-but I felt like it!" she sneered. "When did anything you want matter?" And her fist crashed into his face. he felt his nose break, blood smearing his face and vision blurring. Then she lunged at him again and her fist smashed into his stomach. he cried out, curling away as far as he could, held helpless by the twins.

"Astrid…no…please…I didn't mean to anger you…please don't beat me any more…" he whimpered as she continued to punch him, stamping on his hands, kicking his stomach, punching his face. She reached into his chest and pulled out his heart.

"You're nothing!" she said and stamped it into oblivion.

"ASTRID!" he screamed and sat bolt upright, tears streaming down his face. "Please don't hurt me anymore!" Stoick stared at him in astonishment for a long moment, then quietly moved over to his side and softly laid his huge hand on the boy's back, gently soothing the terrified boy.

"It's okay, son," he said in a low voice. "No one's going to hurt you now…" Hiccup was already drooping, his bleary green eyes fluttering closed. He lolled against his father for a moment and gave the slightest smile.

"Th-thanks, Dad," he murmured and slumped back, asleep once more. The Chief fussed over his blankets and ensured his son was comfortable before he turned to the door. He glanced back at the little huddled shape and then closed the door quietly. But outside the door, his face fell into a ferocious scowl and he stormed down the village, in search of the one person he never dreamed he would have to tackle about his son's torture.

He found Astrid behind her house, tending her dragon with a gentle smile. She had almost finished grooming the beautiful Nadder when she became aware of the huge presence looming behind her and she turned to see Stoick scowling at her. Immediately, she laid her tools down, stroked her dragon and turned to the Chief, a respectful expression on her face.

"I expected better of you!" he growled. She blinked and her expression was shocked and puzzled. She almost backed away a pace but she was a Hofferson and she didn't show fear.

"Sir?" she asked in a neutral voice. He loomed closer.

"My son was having a nightmare," he said in a low snarl. "He was begging you to stop, Astrid. Not to hurt him any more. Care to explain?"

She went white and raised her hands to her mouth. And she stared at him in utter shock and horror. Then she stared at the floor. "Yes, sir," she said in a broken voice. "I know exactly what he was talking about. During Dragon Training, he suddenly became very good. As it turns out, it was because of Toothless. But I was…jealous of him, of his success."

"Why?" The word was soft, tempting her to explain more.

"I was the best at fighting them-I still am. I had trained for this since my father was injured and uncle killed. I needed to win to restore our honour and fortunes. And suddenly Hiccup-the biggest screw-up in history-beats me in every contest. He had to be cheating. I was furious because my family depended on me. And we thought…I thought…that he had to be cheating and that Gobber would do nothing about it because he always protected Hiccup. So it was easy to get Snotlout and the twins to come with me. We caught Hiccup when he returned home one evening and…punished him."

"Punished him?"

"We beat him," she admitted. "I beat him. He was very badly beaten, sir. But we just left him there, curled and unconscious behind your house. And I felt so ashamed…but I never went back to see if he was alright. He managed to get inside and Gobber took him to Gothi." Her voice was hoarse. "I have never been so ashamed in my life-and I feel ashamed now. There was no honour, no justification in what I did. It was evil, spurred on by jealousy. I had ignored him for the longest time when I knew he looked at me with those pathetic, timid eyes that held the merest hope of my friendship. I screamed at him when he messed up. But when he improved, I couldn't bring myself to congratulate him as I should because he was suddenly a threat to my success. Gods, I was a horrible person. But I only hurt him once-but that was once too many times."

Tears slid down her cheeks as she stared at the floor, her shoulders slumped and hands loose. She palmed the tears off her cheek and looked up-to see the astonishment and fury on her Chief's face.

"I thought you were his friend!" he said in a rage.

"You know…he actually came to my house the night we beat him?" she said in a self-loathing voice. "He came to see me! And when I was out, he thanked my father for my help." Stoick gaped.

"You help?" he spat.

"My father had asked me to look out for him," she said. "I knew he was wronged by you and the village over that attack where you were wounded, sir. He asked me to help him against his bullies. So I found him, cornered by Snotlout and the twins in that little cattle shed. They were planning to…about to…molest him…" Her cheeks flamed.

"What?" The Chief's voice was barely above a whisper.

"They had dragged him far away from help, beaten him, stripped him and Snotlout was planning to…" She sighed and couldn't bring herself to say the word. "And he would have," she sighed. "I drove them off with my axe and he was so ashamed, so pathetically grateful that I felt ashamed at how we all treated him. He couldn't help being small and clumsy. He couldn't help being your son. He couldn't help the fact that no one-not even his father-seemed to be willing to give him the time of day or help him improve his fighting technique or skills. I know he wanted to be friends but he knew that wasn't possible. He was such an outcast that I couldn't risk my honour and reputation by being seen with him."

"You're despicable," Stoick said, his voice shaking with rage. She looked up at him, her blue eyes glittering at the hypocrisy but unable to say anything to the Chief who was condemning her so savagely. "You posed as his friend and all the time-you tried to kill him!"

"I-I am his friend!" she said, her voice distraught. "I regretted what I did even as I walked away. I have apologised to him, talked to him. I am his friend! And would never hurt him again! Please, sir-you have to believe me…"

"I can believe nothing you say!" he snarled. "You are not to see my son again. You are no longer welcome at my house!" She stared up at him in shock and horror.

"But…" she gasped.

"STAY AWAY FROM MY SON!" he roared. "If I could cast you from the village for this, I would. But I will just have to satisfy myself with saying that you have no honour-and never will, Astrid Hofferson. I will never approve a marriage for you. I will never allow you in battle. You will spend your life dishonoured and alone!"

And then he turned and stormed away leaving her to crumple to her knees, her quiet sobs the only sound in the cool afternoon.

oOo

Hiccup was woken at dinner time because the Hofferson family had come over to eat with them, bringing food. He had been sleepy and befuddled but had smiled as his father woke him and carefully helped his son hop to the table-Gothi had been very clear that he was not to wear his prosthesis for the rest of the day. Gobber joined them as well-he was practically part of the family but Hiccup had looked around in surprise. Astrid's two brothers-Leif and Finn-had come over but their sister was conspicuously absent. He had peered hopefully at the door for a long time until it was very obvious no one else was joining then. He leaned close to her mother.

"Excuse me, but is Astrid coming?" he asked quietly. She gave him an odd look then shook her head.

"She is unable to," she said quietly and he frowned.

"Is she okay?" he asked softly and the woman gave him a pitying look.

"Yes, my daughter is fine, thank you," she said and turned back to Stoick. Puzzled and a little upset, Hiccup fell quiet. He couldn't understand and wondered if Astrid had decided not to be his friend after all. His stomach went cold at the thought she had decided that he was so weak and pathetic and crippled that he really wasn't worth her friendship and that she had done her duty to him and made up for that beating by being with him until he was better. He sighed. He had expected this, after all. Flying a dragon and saving the village couldn't overcome all of…well, Hiccup.

But despite his disappointment, he had been in parts delighted to enjoy a family meal with his father, his mentor and their guests and embarrassed at the attention and admiration he received. The food was excellent, though he felt full easily and he complimented Mrs Hofferson on her cooking: it was infinitely better than his father's.

"Guys-I'm exactly the same person," he insisted gently, his checks scorching with embarrassment as they lauded his achievements again. He felt terrible and ashamed, especially in light of Astrid's absence. Olaf stared at him and nodded.

"Yes, you are," he told the boy gently. "It's just now, people are willing to see what you are, not what they want to see. And accept that being different is not a bar to achieving great things." Hiccup bowed his head and inspected the floor. "Hiccup, I am not a normal Viking either. My legs were damaged years ago and I cannot run or fight like a Viking. I contribute in my own way. Sure, not everyone believes that I am as important as the great fighters-that is the Viking way-but I am a member of this village and without those of us who keep animals and harvest the sea, the great fighters would starve. You ride a dragon. You believe that living with dragons is better than the alternative. The alternative lasted for three hundred years and was unsuccessful. So far, your idea is working far better. Accept credit where it is due and don't put yourself down unnecessarily. Just don't grow an ego or big head like that Jorgensen boy!" Hiccup lifted his head and managed a tiny smile.

"I can honestly say, sir, that if I show even the smallest sign of doing that, your daughter would certainly let me know!" he admitted with a shy smile, missing the look Astrid's mother gave him. Olaf gently nudged her: he knew Hiccup was a humble and shy young man, so self-effacing that he could never be the kind of person who would turn into a raging Snotlout. Stoick gave the boy a hefty clout across the shoulders. ignoring the stricken look in his eyes and the instinctive flinch at the blow.

"That's my boy!" he announced proudly.

oOo

The next morning, Hiccup woke early and quietly sat up, stretching and reminding himself where he was and what happened. Toothless immediately raised his head and the boy found himself smiling as the dragon gave a little croon. He raised a finger to his lips. "Shh, bud," he murmured. "Let's not wake Dad." And he slowly pulled the furs back, then reached for his leg and pulled the sock, then cautiously strapped the prosthetic leg back on. It twinged ferociously and he winced, then slid his legs over the side of the bed and awkwardly put his weight onto the prosthesis. He limped badly as he grabbed his fur vest and led the dragon to the door, then opened it and let his dragon then himself out.

The sun was just rising, the warm pink and gold of dawn filling the eastern sky. The air was sharp and cold, the smell of the sea wafting up on the breeze. Hiccup hugged his dragon and took a few painful and unbalanced steps before ending up on his backside. He scowled at the prosthesis.

"Stupid metal leg," he grumbled before Toothless leaned forward the pick him up and the boy gave a broad grin. "Thanks, bud," he murmured. "Guess I'm too impatient, huh? When I climbed on you on Dragon Island, I could walk and run and jump. I wake up back here missing a leg and having a real problem just walking a few feet!" He sighed. "You know, there is something I can still do…" And he swung into the saddle, his prosthesis clicking into place and deploying the tail. "What d'you say, bud? Howsabout a morning lap of the island?"

The dragon gave a little croon and waggled his butt, then launched the pair into the sky. Hiccup just managed not to whoop in joy because he was supposed to be not letting his father know he was out but he felt his heart swell with excitement at an early morning flight. He used to ride Toothless in the mornings before Dragon Training and he always felt this was their time. The cold air ruffled his auburn hair as they swooped and soared over the seastacks and then curled round the coast, lazing in the cold morning air. Hiccup lifted his head and closed his eyes, breathing deeply.

"Up here, bud, I just feel free," he murmured. "Just you and me, buddy. No villagers. No pretence. No eyes on me. I still don't know what they want. I still imagine as soon as they stop feeling I will drop dead at any day they'll go back to who they were before and treating me like I'm worthless." Just like Astrid has. He blinked. "But at least, if I have you, I can face whatever they do to me." Because life without you would be worse than death.

He landed after the sun had risen and the village was waking, gently unclipping his leg and unsteadily standing on the grass in front of his house-to suddenly find himself facing a furious-looking Stoick. His eyes widened and he backed off a step, his shoulders hunching and head bowing submissively at the sight of the man he loved and still feared. Stoick grabbed his shoulder and half dragged him back into the house, a growling Toothless at his back. Hiccup was breathing hard as the man half-carried him to the table and sat him on a chair.

"Where were you?" Stoick growled. Hiccup paled, his body curling up further, already anticipating a blow.

"I-I-I was flying with T-Toothless," he stammered, his eyes wide with fear. "I-I-I'm s-so s-sorry, D-Dad…" And he closed his eyes, awaiting the first slap. But he just felt a hand gently close on his rigid shoulder, feeling his hyperventilating breaths and the tremble in his body.

"Son?" Stoick asked him gently, his voice softer and concerned. "I was worried where you were! You have been so sick for so long…we feared we would lose you. And when I saw your empty bed, I had no idea where you were…" Hiccup opened his eyes and saw his father's face mere inches from his own. And Stoick's eyes were soft with concern. The Chief's gruff exterior was due to fear, not anger, he realised-as his father's other hand gently rested against his cheek in a reassuring caress. He could feel the boy's tremble.

"D-dad…you never b-bothered where I was before," Hiccup pointed out, still trying to master his anxiety. Stoick stared at him and sighed.

"No, I didn't, did I?" he admitted. "I have been a terrible father." And he stared at the boy. "And worse, you are afraid of me, aren't you?" Hiccup gave a tiny, shamed nod.

"I-in my defence, Dad, the last few times we talked weren't exactly fun," he remarked cautiously, not wanting to provoke the huge man. He was so close, so vulnerable that he knew he was taking his life in his hands being truthful-but he had decided he had to explain why he was anxious, why he was so wary of the man. His Dad would either accept his words or their relationship would fracture forever. Stoick frowned.

"Are you referring to…" he began. Hiccup glanced up and sighed. He was feeling sick with anxiety.

"Um…maybe…the night before the raid where I shot Toothless down when you told me I was useless and worthless and you could not be more ashamed of me? Or the night after I shot Toothless down when you hit me again and again and condemned me to Dragon Training? Or when you found out about Toothless and you beat me in the Hall? Any-any of those ring any bells?" Stoick stared at the boy as if he was speaking a foreign language and then he rose and walked to the door.

"Get some breakfast and then rest," he ordered his son coolly. Hiccup sagged, trembling hard. His palms were sweating and his stomach felt like a Gronckle had landed on it. He had botched it. Maybe he should have just stayed quiet-but Stoick deserved to know why his son flinched every time he scowled. He stared at his dragon.

"What d'you think, bud?" he murmured in a defeated tone. "Have I ruined everything?" Astonishingly, the Night Fury gave a laughing noise. "Thanks," the boy said with a sigh. "That makes me feel so much better!"

He spent a quiet day in the house, reading the books his friends had given him and grabbing a lunch with Fishlegs, who had brought some very tasty crab cakes with him. Hiccup had always loved Fishlegs's mother's crab cakes and the larger boy was one of very few people that Hiccup wasn't actually afraid of. The larger boy was keen to chatter about the various dragons that had moved into Berk and seek Hiccup's advice on what to do. And also any tips he could give Fishlegs on bonding with and flying his Gronckle, Meatlug. Hiccup smiled, recalling the boy had been so excited at being paired with the bulky dragon and that Meatlug, as he should now think of her, was a really sweet-tempered dragon. He offered his own observations and insights and found that Fishlegs was just as he recalled him-geeky, good-hearted, kind and obsessed by dragons. It was nice to have someone he could share his passion for dragons with and the larger boy had stopped by the door before he left.

"You know, we owe you everything," he said. "I owe you everything. And I am so sorry I was such a coward that I never stepped in. That I never made the effort to talk with you when I could see how lonely and upset you were." Hiccup stared up at him with a smile.

"You never hurt me, Fish," he said gently. "And I could see why you would prefer the cool kids. Hey, I wouldn't have been friends with me if I had a choice! I forgive you-if you promise you won't ignore me again. It-it's kinda nice having someone to talk with…"

"Can I bring Meatlug in tomorrow?" Fishlegs asked eagerly, his blue eyes shining with excitement. "She'll be no trouble and I know she'll just love to see you…" Hiccup nodded, laughing.

"Of course-just don't tell my Dad!" he said. "He may not appreciate you wrecking the house!"

oOo

He dozed most of the afternoon and woke around sunset as the door opened. His eyes sleepily fluttered open and then he stiffened and scrambled up to a stiff sitting position as Stoick entered. The Chief cast a disappointed look at his frightened son and Hiccup felt his heart sink into his boots-boot. That was the look he knew so well. The boy miserably ran his fingers through his hair and steeled himself for another uncomfortable encounter. His father folded his arms.

"Have you done nothing today?" he asked. Hiccup stared at him and looked puzzled.

"You told me to stay inside, Dad," he protested. "Otherwise, I would have been outside with Toothless." He paused. "Have you heard from Astrid? She didn't come last night and she hasn't come this morning. Is she alright?" Stoick scowled and the boy felt himself begin to panic. "She's not hurt, is she?"

"No," the Chief growled. "But you are not to see her again!"

"Why?" The word was flat and direct. No hesitation though Hiccup's heart was hammering in his chest.

"Because I say so." The tone was final. Hiccup clenched his fists and felt his breathing accelerate. He was scared-really scared-but he had to find out what was happening. Something was very wrong.

"No," he said. "Not good enough, Dad. WHY? Have you and Mr Hofferson had a falling-out? Because it's unfair that I have to lose my friend because you…"

"NO!" Stoick snarled, his face reddening as he glared at his son. Hiccup recoiled but his eyes were still glittering with determination.

"Then WHY?" he demanded, steeling himself for a blow. Stoick stared at him, breathing hard. His massive hands clenched into fists and the boy felt himself beginning to cringe and he crawled back across the bed away from his father.

"You had a nightmare," the Chief growled. "And I heard what you said. I know what she did!" Hiccup stared at him and his face paled.

"You-you what?" he whispered, his eyes suddenly dark with shame. "Oh gods-Dad, I-I…"

"I have forbidden her to see you again!" Stoick snapped. "She attacked you, son. She half-killed you. I have spoken to Gobber and Gothi and they both confirmed your injuries were very severe."

"But…but…

"She is forbidden to see you. She is dishonoured. She will never marry. She will never gain status in battle. She will spend her life in shame and poverty for her actions against you." And the Chief looked up with grim satisfaction. Hiccup stared at him.

"No…" Hiccup breathed. "No, you can't!"

"You are my son, Hiccup, and the injury, the wrong she did out of jealousy to you was beyond all excuse…" the Chief stated sternly. "I cannot tolerate her walking away free after such a savage attack!" Hiccup stared at him, his eyes wide and face disgusted. He shook his head as he slowly levered himself to his feet.

"So what are you going to do to the others?" he asked slowly.

"What?" Stoick asked him in surprise. Hiccup stared at him.

"What are you going to do to the others who hurt me far worse?" he repeated.

"I don't…"

"SHE WASN'T THE ONLY ONE!" Hiccup shouted at him, his face suddenly twisted in rage. "What about Snotlout? He beat me up for ever, ever since I was about five or six. He used to torture me every single day. He tried to…tried to…shame me… Or what about the twins who helped him ambush me every time? Who held me helpless? Or Dogsbreath, who used to beat and kick me every day for fun? Or Yakface, who used to twist my wrist until I cried and begged him to stop. Or Nog, who used to force me to lick his boots? Or Spitelout who almost beat me to death when you were hurt? Or Hoark who beat me with his belt when his house was burnt down during a raid? Or Phlegma who slapped me until my face bled for making her miss killing a Nadder? Or…or…or YOU? You had me thrashed, you beat me unconscious after you found out about Toothless, you used to humiliate and shame and slap me whenever you wanted. So what penalty are they getting? Are YOU getting?"

"BE SILENT! You are my son and I will decide…"

"No, you won't!" Hiccup shouted, backing away, his eyes dark with hurt. "You know…Astrid is the only one who apologised. You haven't. No one else in the village has for hurting me. Only Astrid. She was the one who rescued me when Snotlout wanted to abuse me, Dad. She found Toothless-and she came to the Nest with me. She stood by me when the exam went wrong and when I was banished. She gave me food! And blankets! She spoke to me and made me realise that I could still save you all. And she brought me home and stayed with me when I was so ill!"

"I am your father and it is my will that she…"

"YOU…ARE…A…HYPOCRITE!" Hiccup screamed at him. "I survived your neglect, your abuse and your revenge for being injured. I SAVED this whole village almost at the cost of my life. And I am the ONLY one who can say who is and isn't forgiven!" Tears were streaking from his eyes now and he was trembling all over. He was terrified his father would hit him but more terrified that he would suddenly go back to being treated as useless, a pathetic cripple to be locked up and denied friends, freedom and dragon. He was beginning to shudder with sobs, his breaths almost impossible to force past his tight chest.

"HICCUP-I AM THE CHIEF AND MY WILL IS LAW!"

"If you treat Astrid this badly, then I will leave," Hiccup told him in a sudden, breathless voice. "That would solve everything, wouldn't it? No one would have to bother to apologise or face up to what they've done. No one would have to realise or atone for how badly they treated a scrawny runt who only wanted to please his father and be part of his Tribe. No one would have to pretend they anything other than despised me still. And you could keep the Heir you wanted without an inconvenient son getting in the way!"

"YOU ARE NOT GOING ANYWHERE!" Stoick roared but Hiccup was closer to the door and he stumbled out before his father could stop him, Toothless at his back. Desperate, he threw himself into the saddle and they launched, soaring up into the cooling air, the warm light of sunset leeching away as the cold night began to settle over the village. Blinded by tears, unable to breathe, he clung to Toothless as the only thing he truly had left. Behind them, Stoick erupted onto the lawn and glared at the retreating shape in a sudden rage. His roar of fury could be heard all over the village.

"GET BACK HERE!"


	28. Chapter Twenty Eight

**Twenty Eight**

Searching the forest at night had been fruitless but Stoick had done it anyway, leading half the village through the frosty dark under the brilliant stars. There had been no protests, no snide comments or arguments: the village had rallied to find the runaway. But to no avail and eventually, they had given up.

The cold morning light offered no sight of him either, the house and village empty of the Night Fury. The other dragon riders had offered to search for him-all but Astrid, who had not dared approach the Chief. She had watched him talk with Snotlout and the twins calmly, exchanging pleasantries and joking with his Heir. She turned away, sickened by the hypocrisy and stroked Stormfly before leaping into the saddle. She had the fastest dragon except for Toothless and she at least had an idea where to start looking for Hiccup. She stole a glance at the Chief and her face hardened. If she was going to be totally dishonoured, she might as well do what she wanted.

"Up, girl!" she urged and the Nadder took off at top speed, before anyone could shout at her. They rocketed straight up and circled the harbour, before she directed her dragon round the island and up towards Raven Point and the deep forest where the cove lay. She clung on tight and they swooped lower and circled the cove before arrowing in and landing. Then, still seated on the dragon, she carefully scanned the little space.

They were curled in a dark corner, the remains of a small dead fire before them. The bulk of the Night Fury was almost completely curled around the little shape, the flash of auburn hair just visible in the cold morning. The sun had yet to penetrate the cove and the temperature was distinctly cold. Toothless was warm but Hiccup couldn't have been comfortable and he had been so very sick. She leapt from Stormfly and began to walk towards them, her dragon pacing loyally alongside her. She stopped a few feet short and stared at the pair.

"Hiccup?" she asked, her voice uncertain. She wasn't sure if he wanted to see her again. Maybe he had been the one to send his Dad to cast her off, unwilling to do it himself. Maybe Stoick had handed down the unfair punishment all on his own. Or he had punished her and Hiccup had been relieved. But she was, for once in her life, afraid that she would be rejected. "Hiccup?"

He stirred and the embracing black wing lowered to allow tired green eyes to peer up at her and they widened in surprise. He blinked slowly and ran a tired hand through his messy hair. He shifted painfully and grimaced as he sat up. He was stiff and cold but Toothless crooned and he gave the dragon a grateful smile. "Hi, Astrid," he said cautiously.

Her heart sank. The tone was wary, the voice hoarse. She backed off a step.

"Everyone is worried," she said quietly. "Go home. Please." He shook his head.

"Why should I?" he asked her defensively. "I'll be effectively locked up and treated as useless and worthless. My dad has already decided to take you away from me-but he's still treating Snotlout like normal." Her face tightened into a scowl.

"Yes, I could see that," she said in a bitter voice. He stared at her with a slight frown.

"He thought I needed watching over and treating like a baby," he said quietly. "He dragged me in after my morning flight. He never realised how...awful that feels, how many memories that touch brings back. He ordered me to stay in like a naughty kid and then he growled at me for doing nothing all day. I-I told him why I was scared and he walked away. And I had to shout at him to make him even consider that you weren't the only one who hurt me. And that he had done nothing about anyone else."

She stared at him, her eyes shocked. His tone was suddenly angry...no, he was furious. She saw his fists clench and his green eyes glitter with rage at the way he was being treated. "He doesn't get to say who is forgiven and who isn't, Astrid. He doesn't choose who I consider friends and not. He doesn't get to lock me up like a child and deny me everything I had even when I was Useless. And he's never said he was sorry either!"

She backed away. Hiccup was almost vibrating with fury, rising to his knees to stare up at her and intimidate her with that glare. She stared at the ground: it was infinitely better than meeting the raging green depths in his eyes.

"I have three blood relatives," Hiccup said very quietly. "And they are the worst offenders against me in the entire village. Spitelout, Snotlout and my father. My father is ignoring them and has focussed on the one person who has been by my throughout this. Ever since it all went to Hel, you have been there. I told him I wouldn't stay if he treated you like that." He swallowed and suddenly he looked defeated. "I know exactly what it's like, what he is making you face because that was my life. And he never asked me what I thought or wanted. He just...just assumed he could cut you out of my life and I would thank him." He paused. "He tried to grab me as I ran, Astrid. Gods only know what he would have done to me if he'd gotten his hands on me..."

And he wrapped his arms around his body and shivered, suddenly collapsing against Toothless. The girl warily advanced, holding out the soft object she had been carrying: a blanket. Leaning forward, he clumsily wrapped it around him. He dug his chin into his chest and seemed to fold in on himself, his shoulders shuddering in misery. Toothless was crooning worriedly and Stormfly gave a small croak of anxiety as the girl sat on her heels a couple of feet in front of him, staring at him.

"Hiccup, I am so sorry," she whispered. "This is my fault. You shouldn't have argued because of me!" He lifted his eyes and gave her a sideways look.

"I had to," he admitted, "because I was arguing because of me as well. He still can't understand or acknowledge that he did anything really wrong. Oh, he said the words but he doesn't mean them!" He sagged back against Toothless as she fiddled with her hands and gave him a frightened look.

"He-he said you had a nightmare," she said quietly. "About…me?" He looked up: the memory was still there and he knew she didn't want to hear it. It wasn't fair. "Please…tell me," she begged him. He swallowed and sighed.

"Astrid, please don't…" he murmured.

"Hiccup…I need to know…" she said softly. "It was something so horrible you cried out-and your father decided to ruin my life for it. Please, let me know!" He sighed and gave a reluctantly nod.

"I'm truly sorry," he apologised as he stared at her, the fearful blue gaze darkening with anxiety. "I-I was back in that night." She paled. "I was held helpless-and you were hitting me, over and over. I was begging, pleading with you to stop, not to hurt me but you just carried on and on. And when I lay beaten and helpless on the floor, you ripped the heart from my chest and stamped it to pieces!"

He became aware of the soft sounds of sobs, of tears dripping from her bowed head onto her lap without any attempt to wipe them away. Her shoulders were shaking and he heard her swallow and sniff. Slowly, he moved to his knees and scrambled forwards, then reached her. She suddenly stiffened as she felt his thin arms wrap around her, tightening in a tentative attempt to reassure and comfort her. She felt so embarrassed and so ashamed that her friend could have such a horrible dream about her-but still try to hug her. For a long moment, she remained stiff and then, she unbent and rested her head on his shoulder, her hair brushing his cheek and tears soaking his shoulder.

"I'm sorry," she sobbed quietly. He tightened his arms around her, his heart hammering in his chest.

"I know," he sighed. "I know you regretted what you did. I know you have shown me friendship and support ever since…that flight. You have apologised and shown true contrition. And you know I can't trust you fully because you did hurt me so badly when you knew how I felt for you." He felt another sob shudder through her. "And it's clear that I am still struggling with what you did to me, Astrid." She was trembling hard now. "But I don't want you hurt the way that everyone else hurt me. I have told my Dad to rescind your punishment. If he won't, I'm leaving. Because I can't stay in a village where their answer to anything is to make someone's life Hel. They did it to me for years for just being smaller and weaker than them. But for my Dad to do this to you and end punishing me as well is just…inhuman."

She lifted her head and tried to swab her eyes with her arm bindings. "Can I come?" she asked in a soft voice. "Because I don't want to stay if all I have to look forward to is the hypocrisy and derision of the villagers who won't admit they did anything wrong." She swallowed again. He slowly unwrapped his arms and sat back on his heels, looking at her. He was feeling really conflicted: he wanted to help Astrid and he hated the thought that she would have to face the horrible life that he had endured…but he was still a little scared of her. Of the Astrid from the nightmares. He swallowed and shrank back slightly as she looked more intently at him.

"Astrid?" he said quietly. "Can I ask you something?" She nodded and swiped at her face again. It was strange: he had never seen Astrid cry and he wasn't sure he was comfortable with it. It made him feel…ashamed that he had reduced her to tears. He wondered if anyone ever felt the same about him. He guessed not.

"Anything," she said and there was a soft undertone in her voice of sorrow. He swallowed.

"Will you promise you won't get mad?"

She blinked in shock and nodded. "Of-of course," she promised. He gave a nervous look.

"Okay…" he breathed. "Erm…you know how you when you want to make a point, you punch me?" She nodded.

"Yeah?"

"Erm…well, I rather wish you wouldn't."

"We're Vikings! It's how we communicate…"

"Erm…I think I've had far too much communication over the last few months and years."

Her face was suddenly stricken. She had treated him as she would anyone else. But he wasn't. He had been beaten and abused and punched and kicked by almost everyone. And none of it had been with any intent other than causing him pain. "Oh…my…gods…" she gasped, pressing her hands to her mouth.

"Astrid. I don't like being punched. At all. Ever. It…reminds me of a lot of things I'd rather not."

"…"

Tears were welling in her eyes again, her cheeks scarlet with shame. She had not meant him any harm and she had claimed to be his friend. But instead, she had just reminded him of his abuse. She was a truly horrible person! She scrambled up and turned to flee.

But his hand grabbed her wrist and he staggered as he tried to clamber awkwardly to his feet, his missing left foot making it a very clumsy process. She struggled but his grip was surprisingly strong as he pulled her back.

"ASTRID! I don't want you to go! Please don't leave me!" he begged her. "I-I never meant to hurt you. I'm sorry!"

She turned in shock at his urgent plea, the words freezing her. She had hurt him and yet he was apologising to her! She swallowed and stared at the scrawny little shape, his green eyes distressed and ashamed. He was breathing hard, his face pale and hands tight around her wrist. "Hiccup…what are you doing?" she asked him in astonishment. "Why are you apologising? I'm supposed to be your friend and I have been doing something that really upset you…I should be apologising!"

"But I don't want you to go," he said wretchedly. "I don't want to lose you as a friend. You understand. You are trying to change. You and Fish and Gobber are my only friends…" There was a grumble from Toothless and the boy turned to his dragon with a smile. "…human friends," he amended. "Yeah, yeah, Mr Bossy!"

"But…" she murmured. "How can you think I am your friend when I have been so horrible, when I still feature in your nightmares, when I keep hurting you…" He sighed.

"Because you are my friend," he sighed. "Yes, I know it's weird and I really don't understand it either. But you are still there for me. You listen. Hey-you're the one who found me, who knew where I would be! You haven't treated me differently because you treated me as a human being before I lost my leg."

"For a few hours," she muttered ashamedly.

"Which is far more than my own father," he argued. "Look, Astrid. I need you. I want you to be my friend. If…if you still want to be?" She looked up and there was sudden relief in her face.

"Of course, you yak-brained fool!" she told him strongly, drawing her arm back to punch his arm. He stiffened and she forced herself to stop as she caught the flash of fear in his face and lower her hand. "Sorry. I-I guess it will take some getting used to as well," she admitted with an awkward grimace and rubbed her arm self-consciously. He took a relieved breath and nodded.

"Yeah," he murmured. He turned to Toothless. "Bud-really cold now. Could you manage a flame?" The Night Fury scrambled up and fired a patch of ground, the rocks glowing a dull red and casting off a very decent amount of heat. The boy scooted closer and pulled the blanket tight around his thin shoulders, warming his hands over the glowing rocks. Cautiously, she settled by him and warmed her hands too. After a long moment, he looked at her, his wide forest green eyes pleading. "I don't suppose you brought any food?" he asked hopefully. She sighed.

"Actually," she said and scrambled up, snatching her saddle-bag and plopping it down between them, "I guessed you wouldn't have remembered to bring any food." She handed him a large roll and smoked fish. And a canteen of mulled mead. His eyes widened and he almost snatched the food, biting it ravenously. She watched him worriedly. He was still recovering from his wounds from the battle and he had missed supper and breakfast-meals his thin frame couldn't afford to skip. Once he had devoured the food, she gave him some dried fruit as well and smiled at his grateful expression.

"Thanks, Astrid," he said with a sigh of contentment. "I-I really needed that." She stared at the glowing rocks.

"What're you going to do?" she asked him in a low voice. "I mean, your Dad is tearing the island apart to find you. He's got the other riders and half the village looking!" His eyes widened and he curled up, pulling the blanket around his body.

"I can't go back, Astrid," he said quietly. "I can't trust him. He was okay for one day-and then he's just become overbearing. He'll lock me away. I can't go back to being made Useless." he was breathing raggedly. "I-I need some space." She stared at him.

"Where will you go?" she asked him, not wanting to imagine Berk without him. He took a shuddering sigh.

"I'm not sure-but I can't stay here. Eventually, one of the others will fly over and I'll be discovered. And then…" He stopped. "I won't go back until they apologise. Until my father acknowledges what he and the village did to me." He met her eyes.

"Do you want me to bring you anything?" she asked him after an awkward pause. "I mean, I know you left with absolutely nothing that you could use on a cold night out in the forest. No food. No blanket. No weapons." She threw her hands up. "I'll collect some things and bring them to you after sunset." She sighed. "I'll miss you, you know? I guess you are one of the few people who'll talk to me." And she rose to her feet, brushed her skirt and leggings and grasped her saddle-bag. He looked up at her.

"You…you could come," he offered quietly, recalling her words. "I-I mean if you wanted to…" She stared at him: until the previous day, she wouldn't have considered leaving her home, her family. She was a daughter of Berk and loved her home-but the sentence that the Chief had passed on her thwarted every dream she had, shattered every hope and every possible chance of honour. She could stay on Berk and continue to shame her family…or…

"I-I think I may like that," she said quietly. "If-if you really are okay with it. I-I don't want to hurt you any more…" He managed a wan smile.

"I-I think I may be safer with you than without," he said with a small smile.

oOo

He stayed in the cove with a proper fire that Astrid had made for him and some dried yak jerky that she had brought, just in case. He had retrieved his rather pathetic basket of belongings that had been stowed in a small cave in the cove wall from when he was originally running away-he had left them in the cove in case everything went wrong, though even he had not anticipated then how catastrophically it would end. He stared at the small collection of possessions and pulled on a spare tunic-patched, thin and scuffed. It kind of described him as well and he suddenly sagged. He was still not able to settle, because everyone who had treated him badly was getting away from it-apart from Astrid. And she was one of the last people he would have asked to be penalised because she was already punishing herself.

Hiccup limped slowly round the small lake in the cove, practising walking. His stump was still sensitive and his balance remained unsteady: he kept throwing his weight sideways and stumbling. But he persevered because Gobber had built the leg to enable him to walk and run and he trusted his mentor's skills. If the leg wasn't working, it would be because of Hiccup, not Gobber.

By sunset, he was tired, cold and lonely but nothing would persuade him to go back to his father's house. The more he thought about it, the more angry he felt. His father had ignored, abused and undermined him for his entire life and suddenly, when he did something insanely stupid and foolhardy, his father 'cared' for him. Maybe there were some paternal feelings there but Stoick was, quite frankly, so unable to show his feelings that the boy could not believe it was anything other than a fleeting guilt at maltreating the boy who saved the village. He curled up and pulled the blanket around himself. One day soon, Stoick would realise his son was actually truly useless and resume treating him like the pariah he had always been. Only this time, he wouldn't even have Astrid to support him.

By the time an hour or so had passed after sunset, Hiccup was starting to get alarmed. Astrid wouldn't leave him this long because she knew he had been sick and he could see her concern was genuine. He stared up at the stars and poked another few decent hunks of wood onto the fire. He stared as the flames began to lick at and blacken the wood and he painfully scrambled to his feet: his sense of foreboding was growing. He turned to his dragon.

"Toothless, I don't…" he began-and then the squawk of a Nadder sounded and he snapped round, stumbling and dropping to his knees. He stared up-and saw Stormfly flapping down. He smiled. "Astr…" he began and then his voice froze.

The saddle was empty.

He stumbled up, the pain in his stump forgotten. He ran to the dragon and instantly raised his hands, cooing and soothing her as she shuffled and cawed in distress. "Where's Astrid, Stormfly?" he asked gently but she just gave sad little chirps and shook her head. The boy limped round her and saw bulging saddle bags. He explored them and found that she had managed to sneak a couple of new tunics and leggings, a cloak, a fur and his journal and charcoal. The other bag was full of food and supplies. Her axe and knives were also secured to the saddle. He petted the dragon and ordered her to stay in the cove.

"Toothless-something has happened to Astrid," he said worriedly. He swung into the saddle and clipped his metal leg into the control pedal. It felt easier every time. He took a long shuddering breath, then tilted his head to the cold sky. "We need to go back to Berk."

oOo

Fishlegs was sitting in his bedroom, petting his Gronckle, Meatlug and making notes for the Dragon Manual. He reckoned he could now write an entire chapter on Gronckles, not the measly single page that hardly did justice to his magnificent friend. He patted the dragon and she crooned, then licked his feet. He giggled, adjusted the position of his candle and began to write again.

He heard a scratching on his window and he frowned. Terrible Terrors were becoming a bit of a nuisance and he wondered if they were trying to nest but he got up anyway and threw the shutters back. Toothless lowered Hiccup in and the boy landed unsteadily as his dragon hung from the roof, watching over him protectively. Fishlegs gaped and stared at the auburn-haired boy with wide eyes and a slack jaw. "Hi, Fish," Hiccup said.

Fishlegs back-pedalled until he tripped over Meatlug and then he crab-crawled back until he hit his bed and stared up, whimpering, at the scrawny, green-eyed boy looking at him in surprise. "H-h-h-h-hi, Hiccup!" he squeaked. The smaller boy limped badly as he took a couple of steps forward.

"What's wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost!"

"Don't you know what's been going on?" he squeaked. "Your father has been tearing the island apart to find you. He's got the riders flying all over to search for you! If you are found, you have to be taken to him immediately!"

"For what?" Hiccup asked, cold fear gripping his stomach. It sounded like he was facing the worst beating of his life. "Gods, when did I become a fugitive?" Fishlegs's scared blue eyes popped even rounded.

"I-I think he's just worried for you," he whimpered. "He just cares…"

"CARES?" Hiccup shouted. "Cares enough to treat me like a prisoner, to stop me flying my dragon, to cut off my friends, to reduce me to a useless, worthless ornament? Look at my son-he saved the island. Shame he's a crippled runt. I can't live like that, Fish! Even when Snotlout and the others were literally kicking the crap out of me, I still had some freedom. He wants to take EVERYTHING away!"

Fishlegs recoiled and curled against the bed. He was suddenly scared. Hiccup saw him and limped forward, offering his hand. "I'm sorry," he said in his normal, quiet voice. "I-I didn't mean to scare y-you," he added. "I-I just don't know what my Dad will do. I-I don't understand him…and I'm scared because if he doesn't accept what he's done, then he'll never be able or willing to make any of it up! He'll NEVER change!""

Fishlegs took his hand and allowed Hiccup to help him sit on the bed. Slowly, understanding, the larger boy nodded. "I know," he said quietly. Hiccup stared into his face.

"Where's Astrid?" he asked grimly. Fishlegs flinched.

"The Chief caught her as she was about to fly out of the village. He grabbed her but Stormfly got away!" he babbled.

"Fish-WHERE IS SHE?" Hiccup insisted, staring directly into his eyes. Fishlegs gulped.

"She's in jail!" he said.


	29. Chapter Twenty Nine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Physical abuse and attempted rape ahead.

**Twenty Nine**

Hiccup stared at his friend, his eyes wide with hurt and betrayal. "Jail? For going flying on her dragon?" he gasped. He backed off a pace, shaking his head. Fishlegs shook his head and his eyes were embarrassed.

"He thought she may know where you were-and he was shouting with rage," he reported in a wavering voice. "She-she's been forbidden to speak with you, you know!" Hiccup pulled back, his face suddenly angry.

"I-I know!" he said coldly. "I know exactly what my Dad is trying to do!"

"Is-is it true?" Fishlegs asked him in a shocked voice. "Did Astrid really…attack you?" Hiccup slowly straightened up and turned to stare at the window. He gave a small nod.

"Yeah," he admitted quietly. He rubbed the back of his neck. "But she wasn't alone, Fish. It was the only time she hurt me but it felt far worse because…because I had always dreamed about Astrid and…" His voice trailed to a halt.

"Oh," Fishlegs said in a shocked voice. "Really? YOU and Astrid? I never…" Hiccup shrugged.

"Never happened," he sighed, "and I doubt it ever will now. But she doesn't deserve what's happening because she is being made to take the whole blame for the whole village's treatment of me." Fishlegs stared at the boy, recalling how badly Hiccup had been treated. The daily sight of the boy being beaten or slapped or taunted by the other teens or the villagers. The almost daily spectacle of Stoick tearing his son to pieces verbally before the village. "Why is she being singled out? Is Snotlout in jail? Or the twins? Or even my Dad? If not, then this whole thing is hypocritical and unfair." Fishlegs slowly got to his feet and walked to stand by his friend as Meatlug gave a friendly little rumble and Hiccup rubbed her head absently.

"What are you going to do?" he asked softly. Hiccup gave a shrug.

"Something stupid, crazy and suicidal," he murmured. "Wait and see."

oOo

Astrid was sitting on the bed in her cell, her knees pulled up against her chest and face buried in her knees. She wrapped her arms tighter around her legs, trying not to think that she was in jail and utterly at the mercy of Stoick.

She had been frightened as she was grabbed just before she had been about to fly out to meet with Hiccup. Only the little croak from Stormfly had alerted her. Stoick had grasped her arm and screamed in her face, hauling her along like a rag doll. She had squirmed and stared at her dragon, shouting for Stormfly to go, hoping that she would go to Hiccup and he would at least be able to escape before his father caught him.

She had been dragged to the cells and when she had been thrown in, she had expected just to be left there to rot, but Stoick had followed her into the cell, his enormous bulk looming over her. Her eyes had widened and she backed away until her back hit the far wall. "How does it feel to be frightened and trapped by someone bigger and stronger than you?" the Chief had sneered at her and she had found herself cringing away. His expression was vicious, terrifying. She had guessed he could beat, torture or kill her and no one would lift a finger-not even her parents. "ANSWER ME!" he had roared and she had flinched.

"It-it feels horrible," she had admitted in a shaking voice. He had loomed over her.

"So now you know what my son feels," he had snarled, his fists clenching into huge weapons that she feared. Everyone feared Stoick the Vast. "How dare you attack my son!"

"It is an action I regret every minute of every day," she told him, her eyes shining with shame, "but I am trying to atone. And why am I the only one to be blamed for everything Hiccup suffered?" He had pressed her back against the wall and grasped her face in one huge hand.

"How dare you…"

"Snotlout was his worst tormentor, every day!" she gasped. "The twins always helped. Most of the village harmed your son with words and blows and just plain ignoring him. And you…you tore him to pieces in front of us after every raid, and often in between. How could we respect and think him anything other than nothing when you reduced him to that in front of us?"

"You've spoken to him!"

"He's my friend, sir. He spoke to me. What can I do? Ignore him when I know that people ignoring him…my ignoring him…hurt him worse than anything over the years? I would never hurt him again-and you are hurting him now!"

SLAP! The blow had almost floored her and her entire face went numb and agonisingly painful, all at once. She gasped as his hand closed on her shoulder, holding her helpless.

"You have spoken to my son, whore!" Stoick had snarled. "You know it is forbidden. Where is he? WHERE IS HE?" She had stared up into the raging eyes, the fury there terrifying and so-though she was very frightened-she had said nothing. He had hit her again and again, each blow snapping her head back, making her dizzy and her legs wobbly. She had clenched her jaw, determined not to let a sound escape but eventually she had weakened and she had moaned as he had finally let her go, bloody and dazed. He had glared down on her-and then his foot had slammed into her body. She had given a wordless moan and tried to curl up, the breath crushed from her by the blow.

"You are to stay here until you tell me where he is!" he commanded, finally leaving the cell, "Ragnar-she is NOT to leave the cell. She can stay here 'til she rots!" And he had swept out, the door to the jail slamming so hard the whole building shook.

She blinked and rested her head harder against her knees. There was moisture on her swollen cheeks, tears she would never show anyone but she was scared and alone and hopeless. Stoick the Vast had decided she was to pay for the whole village's treatment of Hiccup and there was no one who could help her. She was lost.

oOo

Snotlout had been arguing for over a day, ever since he had heard the decree against Astrid Hofferson. And he still couldn't understand what his father was trying to tell him. The equation was very simple in his mind: Snotlout would get what he wanted and no one would stand in his way.

"You cannot marry her," Spitelout repeated in an exasperated voice.

"She's my Princess. No one else will want her and her family will be desperate to get her wed so what's the problem?"

"The problem is that the Chief will NEVER sanction a marriage for that honourless bitch!" Spitelout shouted.

"Dad-I still don't see why Stoick dishonoured her," Snotlout protested. "If he could just undo that, I can have her and…"

"He condemned her because she beat him during Dragon training. A beating that almost killed him! A beating that still gives him nightmares!" Spitelout shouted at him. His son gave a nasty expression, cracking his knuckles.

"Might've known that pathetic runt couldn't handle a few kicks. And she didn't even do most of the work. I did all the heavy work-she just punched him a couple of times. Her heart really wasn't in it-I could tell. So I had to give him the beating he deserved. He was cheating-and he deserved everything he got!" His father grabbed his shoulders and glared into his eyes.

"NEVER tell anyone what you just told me!" he shouted. "Gods-he wouldn't hesitate to treat you the same if he knew you nearly killed his 'precious' Hiccup. Just thank the gods he never found out how we beat him when he was wounded in that raid. At least you've got his birthright as Heir. Be grateful for that and let her go!"

"No. I want her and she will be mine, no matter what you or anyone else says!"

"You cannot destroy the Jorgensen family name by wedding her. You will be Chief, my son, and you must marry a woman of position and power-a woman who brings wealth and lands to our family, A woman with connections. Not…a shamed stale!" Snotlout's face fell into a scowl: he didn't ever take kindly to being thwarted and he wouldn't see the problem. He wanted Astrid and she was now without protector, status or honour so there was no more reason for her to resist his charms. She would be grateful that someone would want to have something to do with her. And she could show her gratitude to him…

"I am the Heir. I get what I want," he stated flatly. Spitelout sighed, rubbing his face. He was proud his son was a fine viking: strong, brave, not over-analytical, direct. But gods, sometimes he was dense.

"You don't have to wed that bitch to get her," he explained as patiently as he could manage. His son was a stubborn as both Spitelout and his brother and he knew that forcing the point wouldn't work. It took cunning. "You can marry a woman for power, status, wealth and connections, marry for the good of the tribe-but you can have your whore as well. A woman with no prospects of marriage, home, protection, honour will take what meagre scraps are thrown her way…"

"Hey-there's nothing meagre about my…"

"I MEAN that she will be more…willing. Grateful, even, that you are willing to offer her your attention and companionship, even if she is not permitted anything more."

"You mean I can have Astrid whenever I want AND get a fancy wedding with lots of presents and cash?"

Finally! Spitelout nodded.

"And when we…if she…?"

"Your choice to acknowledge a bastard or not. I wouldn't: it would have it's mother's stink of shame. She can raise it or sell it as she wants. You only want the fun, not any consequences. Those are hers to bear." Snotlout gave his father a grin.

"So maybe I should go and tell her the good news," he said nastily. Spitelout clapped him on the back.

"Go and make me proud, son!"

oOo

Astrid glanced up as the door to the cells opened and she sighed, then uncoiled, stretching her legs, which were feeling cramped. She was feeling stiff and her head was aching. They had not left her any food or water and the cells were cold. There was no blanket for the hard wooden bed. She rested her head back against the wall and closed her eyes, trying to think of anything that could give her some small shred of hope that she wouldn't just spend the rest of her life in this miserable cell, paying for everyone else's mistakes and hypocrisy.

"Hey, Princess," the unwelcome voice of Snotlout said and she opened her eyes, glaring at him.

"For the last time, Snotlout, I'm not your Princess!" she told him tiredly.

"You will be," the Heir told her smugly. "I've come to make your day."

"What, worse?" she muttered. He grinned.

"You know you're never going to marry, never have any honour or respect, right babe?" he asked her condescendingly. Her face hardened.

"You talk to me about that?" she hissed. "When you should be sharing this dishonour? You hurt him more than anyone!"

"I'm the Heir, babe. I can do what I want." Her eyes hardened at the attitude: no contrition, no recognition that he had tormented Hiccup for all those years or the harm it had done to that boy.

"Go away!" she said coldly. He grasped the bars, then nodded and Ragnar unlocked the cell door. Menacingly, he walked in.

"You don't tell me what to do, bitch!" he said then turned to Ragnar and his father, who was lounging by the main door. "Give a man a bit of privacy with his girl, fellas!" he said, never taking his eyes from Astrid. She rose to her feet, trying to avoid getting pinned between the bulky young man and the wall.

"Get out!" she snapped. He lunged at her.

"You don't tell me what to do!" he shouted and grabbed at her, snaring her braid. She screamed and fought, a fist slamming into his nose. Blood erupted over his face as she ripped free and backed away, her bruised face pale between the welts. She was a good fighter, quick and lithe but Snotlout was stronger and far more ruthless. He grabbed at her and she slapped his hand away, ducking sideways and kicking him in the side. He spun, a fist catching the side of her head and she gasped, staggering and stunned. But she still wrestled him free as his hands grasped at her wrist. She grabbed his hand and snapped it back, tossing him to the ground and stumbling away.

But he was quick and he snared her ankle, dumping her onto the floor next to him. She kicked out but he threw himself on top of her and punched her in the face. She kicked him and managed to get him off, staggering up but she was drained by her ordeals and her strength was almost exhausted. She ducked away but he grabbed her and pressed her against the wall, his hands dropping to her waist, his lips seeking her face. She wrenched her head away, kneeing him in the middle and staggering sideways. She was panting now, his eyes wide with fear. She was beginning to realise there was no way out of this either: Snotlout was stronger and ruthless and she had rejected him for the last time.

He didn't know the meaning of the word 'no'.

He grabbed her arm and she found herself slammed onto her back, knocking the wind out of her. He was pinning her down, his body pressed over hers, a knee jammed between her legs and his face with its foul breath inches from her own. She was trying to push him off, her hands braced against his chest. He managed to get his lips onto her face now and pressed a sloppy kiss on her cheek.

"You know you want this, babe," he growled. "You're never getting a better offer."

No, she wasn't. Stoick had seen to that. But given the choice between being alone or being with Snotlout…being an old maid won hands down. But she wasn't being given a choice. She was being raped.

His hands were all over her and she screamed and fought, snapping her head away from his questing mouth until he grabbed her hair and forced her to look at him, slamming his mouth onto hers, his tongue thrusting at her tightly pressed lips, trying to breach her resistance. Frustrated, he moved his mouth to suck at her neck, her throat and she tried to pull away as his hands pawed at her breasts then slid under her skirt, fingers probing where they had no business.

"HOW COULD YOU?" she screamed at Ragnar. "How can you let this happen? He has no right to do this!"

"He's the Heir!" Spitelout growled, leaning against the bars, his eyes dark with emotion. "He can do whatever he wants!"

"NO!" she howled as she felt cloth slide down her legs, felt alien flesh against her own, felt his lust grind against her. "NO!"

The door of the jail slammed open and Spitelout turned to see who had interrupted them. A blow slammed him aside and he slithered down the wall, unconscious. Ragnar was swatted outside, dismissed as if he was nothing and landed bonelessly, out. Snotlout looked up at the commotion and his face hardened.

"Get off her, Snotlout," Hiccup said.

"Go away, Useless," his cousin sneered. "This is none of your business!" Hiccup slid off the Night Fury and limped to Ragnar, retrieving the keys.

"Get off her NOW!" he repeated, his voice hard. Snotlout looked at the skinny, limping boy and sneered.

"Watch and you may learn something," he scoffed. Hiccup lifted his chin.

"There is NOTHING I will ever need to learn from you," he said levelly. "Now get off her or they won't need a funeral boat." Toothless growled and his mouth filled with purple plasma, his eyes slitted and focussed on the black-haired boy. Hiccup glared into his eyes for a long moment and Snotlout reluctantly clambered to his feet, rearranging his clothing. "Hold him, bud," he advised the dragon, unlocking the cell and allowing the dragon to slowly walk in, pushing the other teen back against the wall and resting his claws against the there boy's neck. Cautiously, Hiccup limped towards Astrid, who had curled up.

"Astrid?" he asked in a whisper. She was shaking, traumatised. "Astrid?" She slowly moved, and lifted her head, her blue eyes frightened. He dropped to his knees beside her. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "You shouldn't have come. You should have stayed with me."

"Hah! What could you give her, Useless, compared to what I have to offer?" Snotlout sneered. Hiccup stiffened and his eyes flashed with anger.

"You know, I hate that name," he said coldly. "I'm clearly not 'Useless' having done what you and this gods-damned village could never do. You aren't sorry at all, are you? You made my life Hel, you stole my birthright, you nearly killed me-and you don't feel one ounce of shame or regret for anything you've done." He turned his face back to the girl and inched his hand closer, palm up. "Come with me," he invited her.

"She's in jail on the Chief's orders!" Snotlout sneered.

"I think it's pretty clear what I think of the Chief's orders," Hiccup snapped, "especially in this. It's totally…" And then he stopped. Astrid had grasped his hand, her frightened blue eyes staring up into his.

"Thank you," she murmured and slowly began to uncoil, getting to her feet. He stumbled up and led her from the cell, still holding her hand and feeling her shaking. Her battered face was stained with tears and he felt utter shame that she was so abused because of him. He turned as Toothless backed out, leaving Snotlout inside. There was a definite feeling of satisfaction as Hiccup slammed the door and locked it. He tossed the keys on the ground.

"Bud," he said and the Night Fury blasted the keys to a puddle of melted metal. Astrid was still trembling and he cautiously helped her onto his back, then climbed on himself, feeling far more relieved as his prosthesis clipped into the pedal and the tail gently opened. "Hold on," he murmured and he felt her arms close round him, tightening. Her head rested on his shoulder and he felt reassured that she was with him. "Let's go," he murmured.

"HICCUP!"

Both the boy and the girl flinched at the bellow and Hiccup felt Astrid's arms tighten alarmingly round him. He swallowed and lifted his head to stare at his father, his face paling and heart accelerating with anxiety.

"Hey, Dad," he said in a soft voice. The Chief took a heavy step towards his son. Then he realised what had happened: his brother and the guard unconscious, his nephew and Heir locked in the cell, Astrid sitting at Hiccup's back.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" Stoick roared. Hiccup stared back at him, his forest green eyes dark with fear.

"Righting a grave wrong," he said as Toothless began to growl. "I don't know what you are thinking, Dad, but Astrid doesn't deserve to be in jail. She certainly didn't deserve to be beaten-or for Snotlout to try to rape her. Do you think I'm gonna leave her here?"

"She is there on my orders!" Stoick snarled. Then he paused, trying to calm his voice. "Come home, son. We'll talk…"

"You'll talk-and ignore whatever I say, Dad," Hiccup told him quietly. "You'll lock me up and stop me flying and treat me like I am worthless. No-I want to speak to the village. You said you would organise a Thing. You've not done it so far. Do it. Sunset tomorrow and Astrid and I will speak with them."

"You're coming home with me now, son!" Stoick growled and stepped forward but Toothless fired up his plasma blast and the Chief eyed his son suddenly with anger in his face. "Is this how it is, boy? You threaten your Chief?"

"I will come back at sunset and we can talk with the whole village," Hiccup insisted. "Until then, I will stay where I feel safe."

"You're coming with me!" Stoick growled. "Or do you want to try to get through me?" Hiccup hauled Toothless's head up and the dragon fired, blasting a hole through to the cold, snowy sky. The boy stared at his father.

"Sunset tomorrow," he said. "And if I see any guards when or there is any attempt to block my exit, I'm gone and you will never see me again!" Then the Night Fury leapt up through the hole in the roof and with one flap of the wings, he was gone.


	30. Chapter Thirty

**Thirty**

Hiccup had no idea what to do as they landed in the cove. The fire was dying down and he was sure that the villagers wouldn't come after him tonight. Not that it mattered: he had Toothless and Stormfly to keep watch. But he was worried about Astrid, who was still trembling and when they landed, when he dismounted, she remained sitting on Toothless. And she was crying.

"Astrid?" he asked gently. "Come by the fire. You-you're in shock now. You need warmth." She just kept quietly sobbing so he warily offered his hand: he was still scared of her, of her strength and temper, but he was more worried. Astrid was always strong, always pushed on. Now, she looked…vulnerable, afraid. And that rocked the foundations of his world. "Take my hand, Astrid. Come sit by the fire." Slowly, her hand grasped his and he helped her off the dragon and led her to the fire, beckoning Stormfly over and folding the blanket around her. Then he limped a few feet away and dropped to the floor, wincing at his sore leg. Toothless automatically shambled to sit behind the boy and curl up against him with a little reassuring warble while the Nadder settled down at Astrid's back.

"Are you…did he…" he asked carefully, seeing her staring absently at the fire.

"I don't want to talk," she said tightly.

"Okay," he said quickly, raising his hands to try to appease her. "Just…if you want to talk…I'm here…" He sighed, staring awkwardly at his hands for a long moment. She was in a daze and he tried to think back to those horrible hours after he had been attacked by Snotlout: he had tried to suppress the memories but they still lurked in his head. He had been terrified, anxious and so jumpy. He had gone into the forest to see Toothless after the attack…and he smiled. Funny how long ago that seemed. He couldn't imagine the dragon not being his constant companion now. But he had been tense as he had stumbled into the forest and his throat had been really sore from screaming… He scrambled up painfully and grabbed a canteen, handing it cautiously to her.

"Have-have something to drink," he offered. "It's only water," he added in an embarrassed voice. She wordlessly took the water and drained the canteen. With a sigh, he stumbled up and limped to the lake, dropping to his knees and painfully filling the canteen, then trying to get up. He gave a yelp as he tried to put pressure on his stump and dropped to his hands and knees, then sat back, clutching his left leg and whimpering. He bowed his head and remained curled up, rocking painfully. He had been warned about pains in his stump, the memory of his missing limb tormenting his brain and firing agonising pains through the remaining part of the leg.

"Hiccup?" Astrid's voice was soft.

"I-I'm fine," he said, his voice tight with pain. "J-just a little cramp…" Then another wave of pain surged through him and he gave an unconscious moan of pain, his eyes squeezed shut and tears of pain leaking from his eyes. He bit down on his lip and rocked as he clutched his leg, his breathing hitching with suppressed sobs.

Then a hand gently landed on his shoulder.

"Hiccup?" Astrid asked him hoarsely. He winced and glanced up. She looked terrible, with bruises across her face and deep shadows under her red, swollen eyes. And she was looking concerned for him, which made him feel worse.

"S-sorry," he whispered, his face locked in a grimace of agony. "Those p-pains Gothi said I would get…" He rocked back and forth again and felt tears burn his eyes. "I'm n-not being much help…" he apologised but he felt her gently wrap her arms around him and then help him up, limping him the few yards back to the fire lowering him awkwardly onto the blanket. She sat by him and he tried to scoot away from her. "I-I'm not rejecting you but I-I know you need your own space right now…" he whispered.

"How?" Her brows flicked down in a frown.

His face twisted in a grim smile. "He tried with me as well, remember?" he sighed, not reminding her that she had rescued him that time. "So I know what you're feeling, Astrid. I know how bad, how vulnerable, how violated you feel. And I'm sorry I'm not your parents or your friends or someone more useful and qualified to comfort you. All I could do was get you away and bring you here." He blushed. "Sorry." She stared at him: he had apologised almost constantly since he had rescued her, his genuine contrition for something that had not been his fault starting to irritate her.

"Stop saying that!" she said more sharply than she intended and he stiffened, hearing the vaguest note of anger in her voice. Over the years, he had become very attuned to hearing people's tone of voice and his breathing accelerated at hers. "Stop apologising. It's not your fault."

He remained absolutely still, staring at her with wide eyes, his breathing fast and panicked. He felt very vulnerable here, alone with Astrid and in pain from his leg.

"I'm sorry," he murmured. She snapped her head round to glare at him.

"What did I just say?" she asked him.

"But it is my fault," he breathed. "You went to the village to fetch things so I could leave. You got into trouble because I had a nightmare. If I had kept my mouth shut, you would be fine…" His breath was hitching now and he was curling in on himself, despite the fact that she was the one who had been attacked. Despite the fact he had calmly and easily rescued her and defied his father: she really did seem to have him scared of her. She calmed herself and remembered this was Hiccup: the scrawny boy who tamed a dragon, saved the village and lost a leg. Hiccup who had harboured a massive crush on her for ever until she annihilated it in one devastating act of jealousy. Hiccup who had still wanted to be friends and had been honest enough to admit his anxieties with her, who had reluctantly told her of his nightmares when he clearly wanted to spare her his pain-and who had fought his father because of her unfair treatment. Hiccup who had saved her.

She crawled over to him and gently laid a hand on his arm, then wrapped her arms around him. "No, I'm sorry," she said quietly into his ear. "I shouldn't have said that. You have saved me…but you didn't cause this. You…are amazing. I'm not going to hurt you: I promised."

For a long moment he seemed to be resisting but another spasm drew a pained cry from his lips and he gripped his leg tighter, rocking pitifully. She tightened her grip around him and he leaned against her, burying his head against her neck, whining in pain. He was shaking with agony and she held him close as Toothless lumbered over and wrapped himself around the two teens.

"I really am useless," he murmured miserably, his voice thick with suppressed tears. "Every time I think I might be improving, I just amaze even myself with how pathetic I am."

"I was really hoping you would come for me," she murmured back, feeling his bony shape press against her as he groaned in pain again. Another spasm wracked him and she could feel the tension in his thin frame. But though the images of her attack were still fresh in her mind and the fear and anxiety was still surging through her, there was something reassuring about being close to Hiccup. And she realised: she felt safe with him. She trusted he would never hurt her. "Snotlout…has been after me forever and now he thinks…thinks he has every right…"

"How can a great Chief claim to serve his people when the law is applied one way for his friends and cronies and another to everyone else?" Hiccup breathed. "How can one person be blamed and the others walk free? I don't understand."

"What-what will you do tomorrow, Hiccup?" Astrid asked, lying back slightly against the dragon's warm flank. Hiccup fidgeted very slightly against her embrace. He sighed.

"I want them to understand what they have done," he said quietly, wincing again as his leg spasmed.

"And take your revenge?"

He rocked his head slightly and tried to squint up into her face. "Not a vengeance kinda guy," he murmured.

"But-but it's the Viking way…" she replied.

"Yeah, that ship sailed a long time ago," he sighed despondently. "What is revenge, Astrid? Making other people feel as bad as you have? Hurting other people as badly as you have been hurt? And what precisely does that achieve?"

"Makes them not want to do it again? Be afraid to repeat their crimes?"

"Fear breeds hate, Astrid. And hatred just leads to more violence and hurt and pain."

"Or you could make them pay, place restrictions on their freedoms as punishment."

Hiccup sighed. "Anything that makes them resent you is dangerous," he told her softly. "Restrictions, reduction in status, fines, hardships-all lead to resentment. And resentment is poisonous. It leads to people wanting to revenge themselves against the person they resent."

"You have to make them pay!" Her voice was sharp but her arms were still comfortingly around him.

"I don't want anyone hurt," he said shortly. "Astrid-if I wanted Snotlout or Spitelout or the twins truly punished for what they did to me, I would be demanding they face what I did-for months and years. And I would never want anyone to face that misery and pain! That desire would make me as bad as-or worse than-they were. Because I would make the demand in full knowledge of how awful it is. They don't know-and they need to! I want them to acknowledge how much pain they caused-and realise why they should never do that again."

"No revenge?" Her tone was sharper but he sighed.

"Maybe an act of contrition, but no revenge," he said, his tone growing a little muzzy. His leg was terribly painful still but he was warm, in Astrid's embrace and Toothless's wings. "How are you?"

There was an awkward silence.

"The Chief kept hitting me to make me tell him where you were," she said quietly. "And I knew I mustn't say a word because you had to get away. He was like a madman: I was scared, Hiccup. I thought he might kill me."

"He tends to do that," Hiccup murmured muzzily. "Sorry, you shoulda told him. I would've gotten away."

"You're my friend," she told him, closing her eyes. "I promised I wouldn't hurt you again. I owed you."

"Don't worry," Hiccup murmured, his voice becoming slurred with impending sleep. "I won't let them hurt you again. I promise…too…"

"Thanks," she breathed as sleep claimed them both.

oOo

They woke the next morning still cuddled together: chaste and just for comfort instead of any other reason. Hiccup blearily looked up-into a mass of blonde hair that had escaped her braid and drew back as if scalded, embarrassed at his own weakness and ashamed that he may have taken advantage of her vulnerability. Astrid's eyes fluttered open as she felt the sudden waft of cold air as he moved off her. She frowned and stared up into his scared eyes.

"I'm sorry," he said in a panic. "I-I didn't mean…" She yawned and stretched.

"It's okay, Hiccup," she murmured, seeing him on the verge of hyperventilating. "You were in pain and I held onto you. It was…nice." He stared at her and she slowly sat up, wincing as she felt bruises from the fight with Snotlout. "I'm not about to snap. I'm damaged but not broken and I don't intend for that bastard Snotlout to do that to me." Her voice had hardened and he drew back slightly. "And I really do appreciate that you came for me. You didn't need to." He crawled to the fire and fed it, then poked it aimlessly.

"Yes, I did," he murmured. "Because no one else would." He sighed. "I guess I'll need to find some breakfast…" She smiled and rose, then rummaged in Stormfly's saddlebags. She produced salted fish, bread and honey. His eyes widened in shock and sudden gratitude and he grinned as she handed him breakfast.

"You are far too skinny," she told him, seeing him tuck ravenously into the food. "We'll need to get some more food before we leave…" His eyes stared up at her: they had talked and he had offered her the chance to leave with him but after her experiences, he couldn't blame her for not wishing to stay on Berk. He ate silently, handing half his fish to Toothless automatically as he munched the bread and honey.

"We'll go together this time," he said softly. Then he smiled. "We can protect each other."

oOo

After breakfast, Astrid went to bathe and Hiccup checked through his possessions. He had planned spectacularly badly but nothing would persuade him to go crawling home and find himself effectively imprisoned. He had an old tunic and leggings in his basket of possessions and some dried rations but very little else. He sighed and patted Toothless.

Astrid disappeared into the forest nearby to practice with her axe and he heard the screams and shouts of Astrid killing trees echoing back into the cove. He knew he was getting more and more twitchy, talking to Toothless and planning and discarding arguments and strategies. His arms were almost in constant motion and he limped back and forth, his heart fluttering so fast in his chest that he thought it might explode. Then he slumped onto a small rock and buried his head in his hands.

"This was a terrible idea, bud," he moaned. "I'll have to face them all. Gods, what was I thinking? I'll just collapse into a pathetic, stammering mess and they'll just laugh at me, just despise me even more than they do already!"

"Then they are the fools," Astrid said, her eyes sparkling and face flushed with effort. His head snapped up in shock as she walked forward: he hadn't heard her coming. "If they despise the boy who saved them all, they deserve everything they're going to get." She strode up and dropped to her knees by him, stroking her axe. "You made this. You created the for me. It…is the best weapon in the village. And no one even knows how skilled you are. No one knows how brave and clever and determined you are. They see what they want to see and they try to crush you to fit their picture of the world." She sighed. "My gran told me once…happiness is a state of mind and others can take it away from you. Don't let them!"

He took a shuddering sigh. "I think they already did," he murmured. "Astrid-I'll just mess up and shame you even more. You should…"

"Come with you and stand at your side, along with Toothless," she said firmly. "They wronged me too. But I don't know how to work this, Hiccup. You do, don't you?" He nodded.

"My Dad covered village assemblies-Things-as part of the Chief training he gave me until he removed me as his heir," he murmured. "They can be used to make or confirm laws, prevent revenge, discuss wrongs and crimes. The Elders as the lawgivers have to attend and all free men are expected to attend. In Berk, because there aren't that many of us, everyone is expected to attend." He slowly levered himself to his feet. "It's almost time."

They flew into the village and circled above the steeply sloped settlement, watching the villagers clamber in ones and twos and groups up the long stair to the Great Hall. The torches were already lit and the sky was turning to gold and orange as the sun dipped into the sea and the deeper purple and indigo hues of night began to leak across the vault of the sky. Astrid nodded to Hiccup and they dived down to the doors of the Great Hall, landing as the last man entered. Hiccup slid warily off Toothless, patting his dragon to calm his nerves.

As the last sliver of the sun slid into the sea, the two teens shoved the double doors of the Hall open and walked in, with Toothless at their back. Stormfly remained outside the doors, guarding their retreat. Hiccup stared ahead and saw the Elders-and Snotlout-standing on the low platform, the dais where the Chief's Throne was sited. Torches and the great fire were lit to illuminate the huge space and the rest of the village-absolutely everyone-was ranged to the sides, looking at the two teens walking slowly forward. Astrid looked grim, her hands fisted and axe slung across her back. Hiccup limped, looking small and skinny, his loose tunic and leggings and slightly skew fur vest making him an unimpressive figure. They stopped a few yards shy of the Elders.

"By what right do you address the Thing?" Spitelout challenged them, his eyes hard and cold. Hiccup took a shaky breath and lifted his chin.

"It is my right as the firstborn son of the Chief!" he announced proudly. No matter how badly they treated him, no matter how much of his birthright they stole, it was the one thing that they couldn't take away from him. His voice was clear but edged with anxiety.

"You are not the Heir," Spitelout sneered.

"No, that was wrongfully taken from me," Hiccup replied evenly. His green gaze was clear and the older man looked away. Then the boy turned his gaze to his father. "Many things were." Stoick looked at his son, his stormy grey-green eyes smouldering with anger. He had wanted to deal with this in private, to resolve the conflict and quietly put away any awkwardness in the past. His stubborn son had put paid to his plans.

"Speak your piece, Hiccup son of Stoick," he invited his son, as if the boy was a complete stranger. Hiccup reached across and gently stroked Toothless before staring back at his father, trying not to let the pain the cold words made him feel.

"I accuse the villagers of Berk, the Hooligan Tribe, of mistreating me for over five years, for making me feel like an Outcast among my own people. I was all but shunned. Two of them tried to kill me when I had only saved the life of a young boy. I was verbally and physically abused by almost everyone. I was driven to the brink of suicide. My father treated me like dirt. I was constantly bullied and assaulted by my cousin. I befriended a dragon and was cast out of the Tribe-a punishment I knew I had deserved. But my advice was ignored and I had to come to the rescue of the Hooligans. I gave my leg and almost my life to save you.

And only one person has apologised for mistreating me."


	31. Chapter Thirty One

**Thirty One**

"I accuse the villagers of Berk, the Hooligan Tribe, of mistreating me for over five years, for making me feel like an Outcast among my own people. I was all but shunned. Two of them tried to kill me when I had only saved the life of a young boy. I was verbally and physically abused by almost everyone. I was driven to the brink of suicide. My father treated me like dirt. I was constantly bullied and assaulted by my cousin. I befriended a dragon and was cast out of the Tribe-a punishment I knew I had deserved. But my advice was ignored and I had to come to the rescue of the Hooligans. I gave my leg and almost my life to save you.

And only one person has apologised for mistreating me."

There was a chorus of shouts and protests as Hiccup's words echoed round the Great Hall, the entire village falling over each other to protest at the accusation. Hiccup's face hardened.

"Leaving a gift of a couple of dried fish or a pie for a dying boy in a coma doesn't take any effort," he snapped, his eyes glittering in anger. "It doesn't take any courage. How many of you have come to see me when I was recovered and offered me an apology-or a thank you-for my actions? How many of you had the courage to face up to how you treated me?"

"A Viking must be tough!" Phlegma the Fierce shouted. Hiccup turned his gaze to the ferocious woman. He recalled she had slapped him until his face bled for making her miss the chance to kill a dragon during a raid. He swallowed.

"How about a young boy?" he asked sternly. "How many of you would cope with being called 'runt' and 'useless' and 'fishbone' since you were nine? How many of you would enjoy being beaten up every single gods-damned day? How many of you would enjoy being shoved aside as you walked through the village, casually slapped or terrorised? How many of you would relish a constant chorus of whispers as you pass? And never a kind word or a simple thank you or-Odin forbid-a word of praise? How would you cope when your family were the worst offenders and no one-no one-ever was pleased to see you?"

Silence fell over the Hall.

"I saved this village," he repeated in a rough voice. He was trembling all over with the strain of facing the Hooligans. "I nearly died. I had been thrown out of the village, disowned by my father-and I came back and saved you all. But none of you stepped forward and saved me from one instant of pain as I was systematically tortured and broken down by the village over years."

"It wasn't that…" Stoick began.

"IT WAS EXACTLY THAT!" Hiccup yelled, his eyes flaring with rage. "Your nephew, my own cousin, beat me every day. You screamed at me and verbally tore me to shreds, often in front of the village. Gods know what you were thinking or how you imagined they would ever respect me as Chief after that! My Uncle and my cousin almost beat me to death after you were injured. No thought of letting me see my father or asking what had happened-I was just held and punched and kicked until I knew I was going to die. And then they left me on the ground to bleed!"

"Another harmed you just as badly," Stoick growled. Hiccup glared at him.

"As usual, you avoid the subject!" he accused his father. "You change the subject. You completely fail to acknowledge that Spitelout and Snotlout almost killed me. And they have never been punished. As a result of that incident, I was stripped of the Heirdom and condemned to abuse, neglect and hatred for the rest of my life. You barely even acknowledged I was alive and it was with your blessing that I was tortured every day. I couldn't eat in the Hall-I doubt you even noticed I would search desperately for what food was in the cupboard because I was slowly starving. You had Spitelout beat me terribly-and I doubt you even registered what a cruel punishment that was after what he had done to me before. And you beat me yourself. You never listen!"

"I'm listening now," Stoick said through gritted teeth.

"I was called 'useless' and 'menace' and completely scorned by every member of the village. I tried to fight dragons because I thought it would get me accepted. I went out in raids, risking my life because it was the only thing you were interested in. I couldn't fight-couldn't even lift a sword properly. Was it any wonder I needed rescuing? But who was supposed to teach me how to fight? Who was supposed to make sure I was safe. Who was supposed to tell me I was loved and that it didn't matter if I was weaker than the others because one day, I would grow? Who was supposed to protect and care for me?"

"I had duties!" Stoick snarled.

"And one of them was your son!" Hiccup replied, his voice suddenly small and sad. "When did you spare a single word for me that wasn't a growl of disappointment? When did you try to teach me to use a weapon? Or sit me down and reassure me that you loved me whatever? Or make sure someone helped me learn weapons if you were so busy?"

"I apprenticed you to Gobber," Stoick said gruffly, a curl of shame tightening in his chest. Hiccup shouting was something he was able to deal with: he had a right to shout back at and crush anyone who dared challenge him as Chief…but his own son, expressing his sadness that Stoick had been such a terrible father…that hurt.

"And I thank you for it. Even though you only did it to get rid of me so you wouldn't have to waste any time on your weak and disappointing son, I found a mentor, a friend and a father where I had none at home," Hiccup said quietly. "He taught me metalworking and gave me something I could take a pride in. He gave me just enough self-worth to keep me alive."

Stoick stared at the slight shape and felt his stomach plummet. The implication was terrible to hear.

"Of all the village, only Gobber, Fishlegs and Olaf Hofferson never really hurt me," he said quietly. "Fishlegs ignored me but again, he has apologised and I have accepted it."

"What about Astrid?"

Hiccup heard her stiffen at his side and he reached out and took her hand. He felt her grip tighten on his and he faced the village with sudden calm.

"I always loved Astrid," he said sadly. "But she never even knew I existed. She didn't taunt me: she didn't even look at me. But I always hoped…until I began dragon training and began to do well. I became a threat and Astrid became jealous. She wouldn't speak to me, shouted at me and her eyes filled with hatred. Finally, she organised Snotlout and the twins to ambush me behind my house and they beat me badly."

He felt her shudder, bowing her head. He stole a glance and saw tears on her cheeks, her shoulders shaking with sobs of shame. But he lifted his chin and faced the village, stared down accusing eyes on her behalf.

"She was not alone. Snotlout hurt me far more in the attack than she did-but I only hear her name being used. It is unjust and wrong. She found me, found Toothless when I won the right to kill the Monstrous Nightmare. She wanted to turn me in but I caught her and showed her…I wasn't Useless at everything. We found the nest and we…talked. She apologised. She understood who I was…who I wanted to be. She stood by me in the final exam, knowing what I wanted to do and she stood with me when it all went to Hel. She gave me hope and courage when I thought all was lost and helped me come back to save the village and free my dragon. And she was with me every day when I was so ill, when I was dying from fever and my injuries. It was her insight that saved my life. And she has apologised so many times for her jealous action.

So I have forgiven her. I don't fully trust her but I have forgiven her. And it is my choice that I still want her as a friend-not for what she did to me but for what she has done since to atone. She has shown me true remorse. And she did not deserve to have her future ruined when the others who treated me worse still glory in what they have and what they took from me."

"You accuse me of injustice?" Stoick's voice was low and angry.

"Yes." The word was flat and completely toneless. "You have no right to say who I can and cannot speak to and have as my friend. You have no right to treat Astrid so badly when she saved my life. You have no right to prevent her marrying and ruin her aspirations because you cannot face up to the fact that this whole damned village abused me for years-including you. And you had no right to stop me flying, to treat me like an ornament and try to grab me as I fly away. You had no right to abuse her to try to find out where I was! I am a Viking and I have every right to go out and look after myself! To be free, not a prisoner in my own home because I have lost a leg. I won't let it stop me-and I won't let you either!"

"YOU ARE MY SON!"

"Am I?" Hiccup asked him directly. "You disowned me. I am still your firstborn-that right never changes-but you have kicked me out of our family-and that gives you no right to treat me like a prisoner. No right to torture Astrid for my whereabouts. No right to allow Snotlout to try to rape her!"

A gasp ran through the village. Hiccup moved closer to Astrid, gently curving an arm around her tense body. His eyes swept over the village.

"Yeah, that happened," he said coldly. "Why do you think I rescued her from the jail and locked Snotlout inside instead? Why do you think the guard and Spitelout where hit unconscious because they were watching!"

"That's rubbish! Snotlout shouted. "She was really into it and she really wanted…"

"I screamed at you to stop!" Astrid raged at him, Hiccup's gentle grasp suddenly becoming desperate attempt to hold her back. He leaned close to her and murmured a single sentence in her ear. She subsided, breathing hard.

"And his excuse for everything is that 'he's the Heir'," Hiccup announced quietly. "I never made any fuss of the honour because it is an honour and a duty. I never used it as an excuse. I never claimed any privileges because I doubted anyone would think I was worth anything anyway. But Snotlout uses it like a shield to hide his evil deeds-attempting to rape both Astrid and I, constant beatings, hurting me so badly in the assault that only Astrid has been accused of, of the fire in the forge that I was blamed for, of smashing the chairs and pitcher of beer that you beat me for, Dad." He stared into his father's shocked eyes. "When are you going to treat him like everyone else and make him answer for his crimes?"

"What right have you to make such wild accusations?" Mildew the Unpleasant shouted. The miserable old man waved his staff and people around him moved away in disgust. Hiccup lifted his chin but Gobber stepped in first: he hated Mildew with a passion.

"Well, mebbe because it's true," he suggested sharply. "This boy downed and trained a Night Fury, he won dragon training and he completed the class by slaying a mountain sized dragon in front of the entire village. And since the winner of dragon training is required to slay his first dragon in front of the class-which he did-he is the Champion and deserves the honour and plaudits he earned. He has done exceptional things in saving the village and ending the war with the dragons. That wee boy is a hero!"

"The Pride of Berk," Stoick added in a hoarse voice. "I…never…knew…"

"No," Hiccup said coldly. "You knew but you never cared enough to stop it. Or maybe you approved of the Hel I was suffering so you let it go on. Because no parent could watch his son beaten and abused and starved every day and not notice."

Now most of the eyes of the village were turned on Stoick in shock and horror and anger. Most Hooligans had children and few could imagine such appalling neglect of their children. And they began to think back to the small but lively boy the Heir had been, running around, endlessly curious, good-hearted and always willing to help, cheerful and kind…when had it changed? When had they begun to see the young boy as without value? He had been small-hardly his fault-but he had started to become nervous and clumsy, his stammer more obvious, more timid, more determined to fight dragons without any prospect of success. More scrawny, more scruffy and more desperate. And more sad as the names began to become a constant in his life…runt…fishbone…Useless…

"You have stated your grievance," Olaf Hofferson announced, his voice calm but sad. It had been a terrible tale to hear. "What do you demand in reparation?"

Hiccup tightened his grip on Astrid's hand and she could feel him shaking. The encounter had taken its toll on him and she could see he was pale and looked exhausted.

"I do not want vengeance," he stared firmly, his gentle voice determined. "I do not want any to suffer as I have." He paused. "I want the village to acknowledge that my treatment was wrong, that I was bullied and abused. I want the village to accept that during the raid where my father was injured, I was out saving a young boy's life."

"What boy?" came a sneering call.

"Gustav Larsson," Olaf Hoffersen announced. "I saw the whole thing-but Spitelout and Snotlout wouldn't listen to me. Nor would the rest of you as you bayed for Hiccup's blood…"

The crowd fell silent and most eyes suddenly found the floor very interesting.

"I want Astrid's punishments to be rescinded!" Hiccup announced. "I have forgiven her and I am the only one who say who is and who isn't forgiven."

Stoick glared at him.

"I want shelters at the edge of the village for the dragons and feeding stations in the plaza and on the edge of the village," Hiccup continued. "That way, the dragons won't be such a nuisance to you if they have places to go and food of their own. Every family should have a dragon they look after. That way they will learn to respect them and with dragons here, no others will attack and there will be no more war, no more raids."

All eyes were on him.

"I want those who hurt me most-Spitelout, Snotlout, Dogsbreath, the twins, Stoick-to be punished," he announced. "The punishment will be in the hands of the village and the Council. I will not determine what it is to be. But as penance for treating me so poorly for so long, I want everyone in this village-except Olaf Hofferson, Gobber and Fishlegs-to cut their hair short."

There were gasps. They grew their hair long as a matter of pride: short hair was the mark of a slave. Hiccup stared across the room. It was a mildly humiliating act that caused no pain and would simply repair itself in time. No one would be scarred or brutalised or harmed for life from this but it would make a powerful statement.

"Not Stoick," he forced himself to add. "As Chief, he must deal with other Tribes and it would harm the village if he was shamed. His penance is simpler. He must stand at the top of the cliffs every day at sunset, staring out to the setting sun. Every day. I will return and check, maybe not every day, but I can come any day. If I do not see him there, I will never return."

There was a gasp.

"You're leaving?" Stoick choked and Gobber's eyes widened in shock as well. Hiccup stole a glance of Astrid's bruised face and she gave a tiny nod.

"If every single wrong is acknowledged-to us both, if every penance and punishment is met, then I will stay here, knowing that you have admitted what you did and offering the hope you may change," he said quietly. "But if not, I will leave."

"But…but I was going to make you my Heir again," Stoick gasped. There were gasps from the Jorgensons as well but Hiccup sighed.

"Really, Dad?" he said sadly. "When you accept what you have done, when you meet your penance-then I will accept your offer."

He turned the door and petted his dragon.

"Goodbye, Dad," he said.

"STOP THEM!" Stoick shouted and the nearest Vikings ran for him but Toothless was quicker, rising on his back legs and growling, plasma filling his throat. Hiccup glared back at him, though he was trembling.

"I told you if you tried to stop me, I would never return," he breathed shakily. "Dad-why did you have to do this?" He covered his face in his hands. "Remember, every day at sunset. If you wait long enough, I may forgive you. I forgave Astrid because she was sorry. You are my father and I still love you, though I fear you as well. Maybe one day, I will be able to forgive you too."

The men still cowered back as the teens walked to the doors and slid out. Toothless gave one last growl and bounded after them. And by the time the Hooligans had got through the doors. the two dragons were fading specks in the night sky.

oOo

Gobber looked up from the forge, setting his flagon down and waiting for the uneven steps of his apprentice to come closer. Hiccup warily emerged from the back of the building, his eyes fixed on the blacksmith.

"I was wondering when ye'd turn up, lad," Gobber said calmly, taking another sip. Hiccup limped closer. "And ye need ter get Gothi ter see that leg before ye go." The boy sighed.

"You know, I don't really want to go," he sighed, "but I don't think they'll learn anything until I do. And even then, I doubt they'll truly understand what they did to me."

Gobber sighed, staring at his mead. It was the strongest brew he could find and it was nowhere near strong enough for this day. "Aye, that's the truth," he sighed. "Yer father's stubborn and completely in denial about his son. Though I think he got a wee bit of a shock when yer made yer demands!" Hiccup collapsed onto the bench by his friend.

"Gobber, what else could I do?" he moaned. "This entire village has abused and-and broken me for five years and they seem to think leaving a present while I'm in a coma equates to saying sorry. My Dad won't listen to reason and is treating me like a three year old. He wants to prevent me flying and cut out my friends. He doesn't understand I have to be the one who decides who is forgiven. And I have to live my life and decide how I go forward-and with who."

"Where will ye go?" Gobber asked him. Hiccup buried his face in his hands.

"I have an idea," he admitted. "I need to be able to come back-at least for the start, to see if anyone has done what I asked. What happens then will determine where I go." He paused. "Where we go."

"So you're taking her with ye?" Hiccup nodded.

"My father has ruined her life, Gobber," he said in a shamed voice. "He removed the chance to marry and the chance of glory. What else is there for someone like Astrid? She has Stormfly and she has me. I am her friend and I will protect her-until she feels strong enough to make her own way. Or stay with me. Or come home."

"So you and Astrid…" Gobber mused. Hiccup's cheeks heated.

"No," he sighed. "I am afraid of her, Gobber. One thing that is true is that she did ambush me and help punch and kick me into oblivion. And it was so much worse because she had never harmed me before and because I had always…loved her… And though I have forgiven her and I will protect her, I don't know if there can ever be anything more. I-I just don't know."

"The Council was in uproar after you left," Gobber told him thoughtfully, "and the rest of the village was half shocked, half disgusted and half furious."

"Um…that's three halves, Gobber." Hiccup pointed out quietly. Gobber shrugged and let out a large belch-he was definitely the finest in the village at that skill-and emptied his mug.

"The village wanted to make reparations because they all owe you a life-debt," he said quietly, "but there were splits in the Council."

"I'll bet there were," Hiccup muttered darkly.

"The majority were in favour of acceding to your demands. Spitelout was the most vociferous opponent."

"No surprise there," Hiccup added sarcastically.

"He and his son are both in the jail for six months," Gobber told him. Hiccup's eyes widened in shock. "For attempted murder." Hiccup stared, his green eyes wide. "Of you."

Before his eyes, the boy crumbled. Hiccup curled forward, his hands shaking. He grasped them together, clutching them to his middle as he began to shake all over and tears slid down his face. Silently, he sobbed until Gobber could bear it no more and wrapped an arm around the weeping boy. Hiccup curled against him and hugged him for all he was worth.

For a long time, the only sounds were the crackle of the flames and the hitching breaths of the skinny boy, huddled against the large blacksmith. Finally, there was a bout of sniffing and Hiccup made to wipe his face.

"Oh gods," he murmured, swiping his face with his sleeve. "Oh gods, that actually means someone acknowledges it wasn't right what they did to me…" he added in a whisper.

"They also admitted that you had been wrongly accused of defying the Chief," Gobber said with some satisfaction. "Olaf Hofferson and Gustav Larsson spoke with the Council and the village after you walked out and told the truth. They admitted you had been very brave in trying to save that young boy during that dreadful raid-and that your inexperience in weapons wasn't your fault because no one bothered to put you in training. Had you been given any training, you may well not have needed to be rescued. Stoick admitted he wronged you."

Hiccup stared at him in shock. Then he shook his head. "Except he couldn't bring himself to say anything to my face," he murmured.

"A lot of things came out in Council," Gobber said softly. "A lot of people admitted how badly they treated you."

"Though no one managed to say anything to me," Hiccup repeated.

"I was kind of hoping ye'd stay, lad." Gobber's tone was soft, almost pleading. Hiccup lifted his red eyes and stared at him.

"And Astrid?" he asked pointedly. The blacksmith sighed.

"He wouldnae budge on her," he admitted. Hiccup rose sharply to his feet.

"Then I can't come back," he said calmly. "I can't accept the progress for me if she is still so unfairly treated. My Dad beat her to find out where I was-and she held out. She didn't betray me, though she was terrified. And then Snotlout…tried to rape her. And they would have let him-watched him-commit such a heinous crime against a maiden because he was the gods-damned Heir! So until they admit she was wrongly treated as well, then it's meaningless." He turned to the door. "I'm sorry, Gobber-I truly am. I really wanted to stay. Nothing I asked for was vengeful or cruel. Nothing would shame anyone as I have been shamed; nothing would harm them and leave them bloody or broken or wracked with nightmares and a fear of being even touched because of it! No, all I asked was a sign that they accepted their behaviour was unacceptable and a genuine attempt to change. And a sign they remembered what had happened."

"Laddie…" Gobber's voice was sad. Hiccup turned back at the threshold.

"Yes, Gobber?"

"Why did you not ask for me to be included in the village's repentance?" he asked. Hiccup gave a tiny smile.

"You were my real father," he said softly. "Not him. He only treated me like an embarrassment. Okay, sometimes you were mean and sarcastic and cold but mostly, you cared for me and taught me and made me feel…worth something. I would never make you pay for the mistakes of others. Its something I have had to do all my life: I wouldn't wish that on anyone." He turned and walked into the night. In a moment, the tell-tale whistle of the Night Fury's flight sounded as he swooped away. Gobber blinked.

"May the gods protect you, son," he murmured.


	32. Chapter Thirty Two

**Thirty Two**

Astrid was angry. No, she was furious. They had been gone from Berk for a few days and so far they had gone precisely nowhere.

She slammed her axe into a tree and gave a scream. That wasn't entirely true: they had relocated to Dragon Island, camping out in one of the many caves in the volcano that had been vacated when the Red Death fell. Hiccup had be very quiet as he had flown over the charred and rotted remains of the enormous dragon, seeing his fallen foe for the first time and-by proxy-viewing the place where he nearly died and where he lost his leg. He had hovered for a very long time, then had silently flown away, his trembling hands pressed desperately against Toothless. He had flown all afternoon that day, long into dusk and had only landed when it was almost impossible to see and he had been guided home by the fire Astrid had lit in the cave entrance.

Every afternoon, he had flown back to Berk and hovered amongst or landed on the seastacks, facing the cliffs of Berk. Astrid had accompanied him on the first couple of days and had watched him tense as the sun dipped towards the horizon. And every day, the huge, flamed-haired shape of the Chief stomped down the hill and stood solidly on the cliffs, staring out to sea. His face was stoic and grim and the girl had seen her companion cringe and curl inwards at the angry expression: he knew his father hadn't accepted his departure or acknowledged the wrongs they had done him. Hiccup had remained still, watching when the Chief stamped back up the hill to continue his day and he had gently rubbed Toothless before flying back to Dragon Island.

And he was quiet-gods, he was quiet. She had never imagined him to be quiet and introverted because her memories of him as a child had been of a lively, bright, cheerful boy who had always helped, always offered a quick or sarcastic comment. How long had it been since that boy had ceased to exist-when he became the pariah he had been? No one talked to him, no one joked or laughed or sought his company-so he had drawn in on himself and become quiet and introspective. A loner by circumstance, not by choice. Always quiet, always hunched and curled, trying not to attract any attention-because attention led to taunts and blows. Led to being beaten again for the crime of being _Hiccup_. And so now, at night, he sat staring into the fire, trying to rationalise everything he had seen and endured, everything he had done and sacrificed. What had been said and what-crucially-still had not. Sometimes-most often-he spoke to Toothless and occasionally he talked with Astrid...but most of the time, he was silent.

This wasn't how Astrid had imagined it. In fact, as she paused and wrenched the axe from the tree, she wasn't precisely sure what she had imagined when they had flown from Berk. She had felt a strong pang of regret at leaving her parents and family but a greater surge of relief in escaping the unreasoning hatred and victimisation of Stoick and a village that seemed content to let her take the blame for everything they had done to Hiccup. Even though Snotlout had apparently been thrown into jail for his crimes, she didn't feel safe. But she did with the dragons and especially with Hiccup, who had done everything that he had promised. He had defended her, challenged the Thing and demanded her exoneration. And though they had apologised to him for his treatment-albeit grudgingly and incompletely-they had done nothing for her. So they had left-though she knew that Hiccup really hadn't really wanted to go.

She threw her axe again with a loud scream. She hit the same spot, her aim and form perfect. She couldn't understand why he wished to remain, as he had suffered so much worse than she had over the years. But there was something here, a sense of duty that he found difficult to ignore. Stoick had already called him 'the Pride of Berk' for his feat in defeating the huge Red Death dragon and it was obvious that the Chief had wanted to restore Hiccup as his Heir. Then she grasped the axe and paused. She couldn't really understand the conditioning and training he had received over the years to prepare him for his role as future Chief-but she suspected that he had been told so many times that Berk was his responsibility that he believed it right down to his bones.

She pulled the axe out again and stamped back to her place. Yet he had been on the brink of leaving before, at the end of Dragon Training when he wanted to avoid killing a dragon. He had gathered a really pathetic set of supplies and had been about to fly away-until she intercepted them. But had he got a plan then or had it been a desperate flight away? And did he have a plan now? She screamed and slammed her axe into the tree again. Then she stretched her shoulders and grabbed the axe. Practice, practice, practice…now more than ever, her life depended on her axe skills. They were alone, with no tribe or family to protect them. They only had each other-and Astrid was determined to repay Hiccup for his protection of her by making sure he was safe. And for that, she had to be in top condition…

oOo

Hiccup tossed on his bed in their little cave, the little nest of dry bracken and grass that he had gathered under a blanket as a makeshift mattress. Viking beds were usually very hard, a simple wooden frame with planks nailed on-but he was sore and aching and the rock floor was very uneven. They had agreed to sleep in the same cave-though on opposite sides and with their dragons for protection-but Hiccup was regretting the pragmatic decision. No matter what brave face he put forward for Astrid, he was still struggling with his injuries and he slept poorly waking throughout the night often by hideous and terrifying nightmares, wracked by guilt for what he had done to Astrid. That she had been blamed, imprisoned, disgraced was his fault, his weakness, his shame. And because he slept poorly, he was exhausted and had opted for a short nap while Astrid was out training.

He moaned slightly as he writhed but he couldn't wake from the dream where he was back on Berk, back in his home and recuperating after his long coma…

_"Tidy yourself up, son," Stoick ordered him sternly. "We eat in the Great Hall this evening." Hiccup stared up at the tone and sighed. His leg was aching again and it was a long walk to the Great Hall. He swallowed._

_"Erm, Dad-I was really hoping I could just stay here and…" he suggested but Stoick scowled fiercely._

_"Put on a clean tunic and leggings and get that fur cloak out!" he commanded. "The village celebrates the end of the war and we cannot feast without the guest of honour!" Hiccup groaned._

_"Dad…" he whined, his dismay obvious but Stoick impaled him with a fierce glare._

_"Son, this is something you have to do," he said in a sterner tone. "You are my son and you single-handedly ended the war that has engulfed out Tribe for three hundred years!"_

_"I had help," Hiccup protested._

_"And the other riders will be there," he reassured his son._

_"I meant Toothless!"_

_"And he can come, too," Stoick sighed reluctantly. "Now GET CHANGED!" Hiccup let his head fall back exhaustedly for a long moment before reluctantly struggling to his feet and grabbing a fresh tunic and leggings from the pile of new clothes he had been given as he lay unconscious as a silent and painless apology to the boy. Then he looked pointedly at the Chief._

_"Er…Dad…would you mind?" he asked, holding the tunic up shyly. Stoick laughed at him._

_"Who do you think washed you while you were ill, son?" he asked the boy, guffawing with mirth. "And who changed you as a baby?" Hiccup flushed beet red, staring at the floor and shaking his head._

_"DAD…" he pleaded and the Chief stared at him coldly._

_"Get on with it, boy!" he snapped as the boy sagged, defeated and threw off his fur vest and stripped off his tunic then threw another clean deep olive one on. He had to sit on the edge of the bed to take his boot off and cautiously ease the leggings over the prosthesis before replacing them with clean brown ones. He stamped his boot on and defiantly pulled his fur vest on. As a scrawny 'fishbone' who had been teased forever for his size and appearance, he really had no confidence in his own looks and was ferociously shy._

_"Done-I guess," he sighed. Stoick's eyes had narrowed at the scrawny and thin body of his son and the disappointment had been obvious._

_"You need to work out more," he growled. "Now you are a hero, you need to look like one, boy. If I am to replace Snotlout, I can't take on an inferior Heir." Hiccup sagged, feeling crushed at the dismissive tone: the one thing he couldn't do anything about was the one thing they always held against him. Then Stoick turned and when he turned back, he handed the boy a bear fur cloak-like a smaller version of the Chief's. The Chief carefully wrapped the magnificent cloak around the boy and fixed it with a single large boss, etched with a black dragon that looked amazingly like Toothless. Hiccup peered down in shock and recognised the work of Gobber. He exhaled slowly._

_"Um, Dad…? Are you sure this is mine?" he asked hesitantly. "I mean, a cloak this fine is really only for the Chief…"_

_"And you are the Chief's son!" he reminded the boy. Hiccup groaned. "Now buck up, son! We have to walk there!" Hiccup stopped and stared at him. He had barely walked out onto the lawn in front of his house, let alone all the way down the village to the stairs of the Great Hall-and then back up again. He groaned._

_"I will never make it," he said softly._

_"Come on, son," Stoick insisted shortly. "You are my son! How could you imagine you can't walk such an easy journey?" Hiccup's shoulders slumped and he realised he was going to disappoint his father again. Wearily, he started his unsteady limp out of the house. Toothless grumbled and slowly began to walk after him._

_"Couldn't Toothless just…?" Hiccup suggested as he took another limping step. He winced, his stump jabbing white-hot daggers of pain into his leg. Stoick looked coolly down on his son._

_"We walk," he said and Hiccup fell silent, concentrating all his energy, all his courage on putting one foot in front of the other. His pace was slow and uneven, his breathing ragged as he felt the pain increase to almost intolerable levels. Finally, as they reached the plaza and were making their very slow way to the long stair to the Hall, Hiccup stopped._

_"Dad, have I done something wrong?" he asked directly, his tone wary. He was breathing hard._

_"Why do you ask?" Stoick's tone was surprised. Hiccup sighed._

_"Because I must have done something wrong for you to be punishing me like this." Stoick spun and stared at his son, his eyes shocked. He grasped Hiccup's shoulder and the boy tensed instinctively._

_"Punishing you?" he gasped, his voice astonished. "All I expect is for you to be a proper Viking son. Or even a proper Viking! This isn''t a punishment-it is just a sign that you are one of us." Hiccup gulped._

_"Dad, you don't understand," he whispered and then clenched his hands into fists. He risked angering his father once more. "Why am I having to walk so far when I haven't even managed to walk up the stairs yet?" he asked. "Dad, my leg hurts more than I can tell you. I'm feeling sick with the pain and I think my leg's gonna give way soon." Stoick instantly grasped the boy and swept him into his arms and the boy went rigid. "D-Dad?" he managed in a strangled whisper._

_"You never cease to disappoint me," Stoick breathed. "I will just have to lock you up until you grow into a Viking-or do me the favour of dying and allowing me to get myself a proper Heir at last!"_

_"Dad-all I ever wanted for you to be proud of me," Hiccup whispered as the cell closed around him…_

 He woke up and screamed, his arms raised in front of his face and eyes staring wildly. Toothless was instantly at his side, nuzzling the skinny shape hard and Hiccup throw his arms around the blunt head, burying his face in the warm black scales and trying to calm his sobbing breaths.

"I'm never gonna be good enough, bud," he murmured. "He tried to stop me leaving. He set the guards to catch us!" He screwed his eyes tighter and tightened his arms around the dragon. "Gods only know what he would have done to me if he had caught me! You saved me again..." He shook his head. "And he doesn't accept what he has done. None of them do…He still thinks he can carry on as normal…" He sighed and collapsed back onto his bed.

Toothless gave a little warble and nudged the boy. Hiccup winced and grimaced as he moved his left leg. The stump was sore-he hadn't been doing what Gothi had ordered and the leg was excruciating. The dragon licked at the sore stump and though Hiccup forced a wan smile on his face, he still sighed.

"You think I should go back, bud?" he asked quietly. The dragon crooned and lay down beside him, his warm body radiating heat into the skinny, restless shape by him. "Yeah, I know-my Dad is there, and Gobber and Gothi…and Fishlegs…but I can't leave Astrid. She's in trouble because of me, bud. I gave her away. And my Dad has unfairly blamed her for everything…"

Toothless huffed and rolled his eyes. His ears flattened back against his head as he grumbled at the boy.

"Yeah," Hiccup sighed, throwing his arm across his face, "I know she hurt me. I mean, really hurt me. I had loved her for _ever_ and then, just when I may have a chance of her possibly noticing I exist and not ignoring me, she starts hating me and then gives me one of the worst beatings of my life!" He lay still for a long moment. "I really thought I was gonna die, bud. It was so bad and all I saw was her face, her fist, her hatred…and though I knew Snotlout did most of the damage, Astrid is the only one I can visualise. I don't know if I hate her. I do still blame her. And I am scared that she will suddenly decide to do it again if I do something that she doesn't like." He sighed.

Toothless nudged him gently but Hiccup stared up at the stone roof of the small rocky chamber.

"I know I said I forgive her…and I do because she saved my life after the battle," he admitted. "She brought me home and stayed with me every day. Gobber told me that she was the one who insisted you saw me. That you could try to help as well…" And he reached out and his fingers gently stroked over the scales. "But…can I trust her? Can I leave myself vulnerable to her? I know she's being nice to me now because she doesn't have anyone else, but I guess we'll have to move on and someone as special as she is will find someone brave and strong and handsome and all those things I can never be and then it'll just be you and me." He swallowed. "Look, I know she'll leave us as soon as she can, bud. I better get used to the idea…"

He looked up at the scrape of a boot on the rock and saw Astrid at the door having heard his conversation with the dragon. Her eyes raked him, the blue cold and hurt and then she spun and stalked out. He stiffened: he had no idea how much she had heard.

"ASTRID!" he yelled but she had gone. He heard the screech of Stormfly taking off and he threw himself to his knees, strapping his prosthesis on and gasping in pain at the pressure on his reddened, swollen stump. He levered himself to his feet and almost cried out in pain as he tried to walk on the leg. Bowed, white-hot pain jabbing up his leg, he tried to limp after her but he could barely take a handful of steps. Then he stared at the dragon. "Toothless?" he murmured and the dragon unwillingly clambered to his feet. Hiccup threw himself on his back and they bounded out of the chamber and into the air. Toothless saw the rapidly retreating shape of the Nadder and the Night Fury accelerated after it, his rider grasping tight onto the saddle and leaning forward.

"You gotta catch her, bud," he urged the dragon. "I don't know what she heard but her face…oh gods, I think she heard me say I still blame her…" He grimaced as he changed the position of the tail fin, the pain making his leg feel like it was on fire. The Night Fury accelerated, his streamlined shape slicing through the air, the characteristic whine of huge bat-like wings sounding as they closed on the speeding Nadder. Hiccup pulled alongside and glanced at the girl. Her face was locked in anger but her eyes were shimmering with tears as well and she was not looking at him.

"ASTRID!" he shouted at her. She leaned lower over the Nadder.

"Go, girl," he heard her say and Stormfly pulled forward. Hiccup leaned low over Toothless and the black dragon accelerated to catch up. Ordinarily, Hiccup would relish the opportunity to fly so fast and hard but now, he was just scared he had hurt Astrid-and he had promised not to hurt her. She had suffered as well-both from her punishment by Stoick, her unfair imprisonment and the attempted rape. He felt sick that he may have added to her suffering.

"WAIT!" he shouted. She spared him the slightest of glances.

"Why?" she spat. "So you can blame me some _more_?" He swallowed and his heart sank.

"Please, let me explain!" he shouted but she looked away and urged Stormfly even faster. They were soaring out over the sea now, small clouds hitting them with misty coldness as they accelerated.

"No! I don't want to hear anything you have to say!" she shouted back. Her eyes were tearing now-she could blame the speed they were travelling-but her throat was thick with anger and hurt and she just wanted him to go away. Hiccup sighed but he couldn't leave this: she was literally the only person he had right now and he owed her his life. He forced Toothless faster and they managed to get ahead of the Nadder and swing in front of them, forcing Stormfly to pull up with a screech and hover. Astrid grabbed her axe.

"Please, let me explain," Hiccup begged but Astrid backed her dragon away from him.

"NO!" she yelled. "I. Am. Not. Listening!"

"Then tell me what you want to say!" Hiccup pleaded with her. "I know you're mad. I...I guess you're hurt as well. So shout at me. Scream at me. Tell me what to want to...and if you-you want to leave me...I-I will understand..."

"You lied to me!" she shouted. "You said you forgave me!" He stared at her.

"I did. And I have," he yelled back. "Please-can we land and talk, Astrid?"

"But you said you blamed me!" she shouted, her tone betraying her hurt at the words. He sagged.

"Please, can we land?" he begged. "My leg…" She glared at him and was about to sneer a reply but then she saw he was ashen and his face was tight with pain. She scanned the sea below and gestured to a seastack a couple of thousand feet below. Hiccup nodded and they spiralled down until they landed. The boy slumped forward and he winced, trying to turn his head away from her. She walked Stormfly forward and stared at him.

"Speak," she ordered him coldly. He swallowed and lifted his head with difficulty. He was feeling his stomach dance with anxiety. He took a deep breath, his auburn hair ruffling in the brisk sea breeze and stared at her with frightened green eyes.

"I have forgiven you, Astrid," he said quietly, staring at the floor. "I understand what you did and why you did it. I have decided that your remorse and your subsequent actions mean that I can forgive the harm you did me." Then he paused. "But you are still to blame for your actions. You chose to hurt me, Astrid. You organised the others. You led them in the ambush. You threw the first punch and watched me beaten to a bloody pulp on the floor, leaving me to die in the frosty night. No one came back to check I was alive, that I hadn't frozen or choked on my own blood. And so you are to blame for that horrible attack. Your blame is a matter of fact and so is the fact I have forgiven you. Forgiveness doesn't alter culpability or blame: it means you have the chance to go forward and do better."

She stared at him, He was resting his hand gently on Toothless's neck for support, his eyes furiously inspecting the floor. And he was trembling.

"And I know because it's my fault you are exiled," he told her miserably. "I was so weak that my father heard my nightmare and unfairly blamed you for everything. And again, you heard me wake from my latest nightmare and talk to Toothless. So it's my fault. I-I'm to blame." He covered his face with his hands. "I couldn't get them to repeal your sentence. I caused you to get put in jail where Snotlout nearly raped you. I swore I would never hurt you and then I upset you like this. Oh gods, why am I so _Useless_?" he whispered.

She slid from Stormfly's back and walked cautiously towards the shaking boy. She knew he was scared of her but she was feeling terribly ashamed because he was the one who had suffered appalling abuse for years-yet he was apologising to her for nothing he had any control over. She reached him and hesitantly laid a hand on his. He flinched.

"Hiccup-you aren't Useless-and don't ever say that in my hearing!" she told him sharply. He stiffened and she consciously modulated her tone. She knew how sensitive he was to voices, having spent much of his life taking abuse from his neighbours and family. His self-confidence was rock bottom and something was bothering him badly. She gently closed her second hand on his. "It's not your fault. You're right: I chose to hurt you and this is the consequence. Your father was wrong to blame me for everything but I do hold blame And I…I was wrong to believe that my blame and shame left with your forgiveness. You are kind and decent-I was cruel and jealous." She looked away.

"You see-I had fooled myself that you had come to terms with it, that you had forgiven me," she said and she felt him tense, "but I forgot that doesn't equate to absolution for my sins. It doesn't mean you still don't fear me-because you do. I can feel it in the tremble in your hand. And I hate that I did that to you. I hate that you are here, scared of me and relying on me and wondering if I will run off and take up with someone else." His eyes flicked up: she had heard that as well? Maybe the ground would do him a favour and swallow him up. She gave a gentle smile. "The answer is never. You are my best friend and without you, I literally have nothing. I have no name, no honour, no prospects. You are everything, Hiccup. And I promise…I promise…I will never let you down again."

His hand tightened on hers and his shamed green eyes flicked up.

"Thanks," he murmured and shifted his position with a wince.

"Seriously-is your leg bad?" she asked him worriedly. He gave a small shrug.

"It's okay," he said defensively and she scowled at him.

"You do know you're a _terrible_ liar?" she asked him. He gulped.

"I hid a Night Fury for weeks," he protested.

"Only because no one actually spoke to you or asked you anything!" she shot back. He stiffened and curled in on himself as she mentally kicked herself for reminding him of his utter isolation. Her instinct to compete, to win the argument had impelled her to tread on forbidden ground-again.

"Yeah, there was that," he said tonelessly, the spirit oozing from his voice.

"Oh gods, I'm sorry, I never meant…" she began and he looked up, his eyes ashamed.

"No, we're being honest," he said quietly. "Yes, I did have no one-even when I thought I had you, I didn't…and you made that plan." She gasped at the pointed jibe. "And yes, my leg is absolutely killing me," he added slowly. "I-I don't think I can get back to Dragon Island…" He winced. "But I can't leave Toothless here either."

She frowned as she stared into his face: there was a faint flush on his pale cheeks. She held his hand tighter: the skin was warm. "Hiccup…?" she said cautiously. "You have a fever." He nodded.

"It'll get better," he murmured. She scowled.

"Show me your leg!" she snapped and he shied away but she grabbed his hand tight and stared into his eyes. "Hiccup, I watched you nearly die of fever, of infection in your stump. If there is a problem, we need to deal with it now!" He swallowed and blinked against the faint headache that was making thought more difficult. Then he dragged up his pants leg and unstrapped his prosthesis, letting it pull away from the swollen and scarlet stump, lines of red crawling up his leg way past the knee. Astrid's eyes widened in horror.

"Bad?" he guessed.

"Oh, Hiccup-it's awful!" she gasped. "We gotta get you to Gothi…"

"NO!" he exclaimed. "I-I can't go back…"

"Hiccup…we need her help," she said urgently. "Without it, you may die…" He gave a little resigned sigh.

"Maybe it would be for the best," he said bleakly. "I just don't know what to do anymore!"

"Hiccup-you can't leave me!" she said in a thick and worried voice. "Don't leave me alone with no hope. Don't leave me without my best friend. Don't leave me without my Hiccup…" She swallowed and her eyes were shimmering with tears. He blinked.

_'My' Hiccup? Gods, he had completely misunderstood the situation. She was really dependent on him...and she wanted more Oh Thor, oh Odin...how could he tell her? But he was so tired and his leg hurt so much again-as badly as it did that very first day… Did he really want to die? And leave Toothless?_

"You'll need to ride Toothless," he told her roughly, "because he can't fly without help. Stormfly can come with us. If…if we leave now, we can make the seastacks at dusk to check on Dad and the village…and then after dark…we can see Gothi…" She gave a visible sigh and nodded, turning to explain to her dragon. Hiccup leaned towards Toothless. "Sorry, bud," he explained tiredly. "Not feeling too hot now…and we need Gothi to help me. Astrid will be riding with us-can you explain to Stormfly that we need her to fly with us back home?" The dragon gave a reassuring warble and gave a few croons that the Nadder replied to immediately. Then he felt Astrid slide onto Toothless behind him. He told her where to put her foot so she could access the small pedal he had left to work the prosthetic tail.

"Gods-this looks complicated," Astrid murmured and he leaned back against her. "And you are scorching." He gave a slight smile. At least she wasn't upset at him any more.

"Yeah, Toothless would be proud," he murmured. "I'll talk you through…" Astrid hugged him gently and sighed.

"Oh well," she murmured. "Back to Berk…"


	33. Chapter Thirty Three

**Thirty-Three.**

The dragons had made the seastacks at dusk and Hiccup had stared for a long moment as Stoick made his daily walk to the cliffs and stared out to sea. Today, however, his mouth was moving and the boy listened closely as his father's loud and clear voice rang across the distance between them.

"Son, I know you're listening!" he shouted to the still figure, now seated behind Astrid on the Night Fury. He paused and Hiccup saw him bunch his fists. The boy curled up, his head down, expecting scorn and dismissal from his father-so his next words took both the listeners by surprise.

"I-I didn't want to believe you but the more I thought about it, the more I realised I had treated you worse than a thrall! You are my son, my only child, the only part of Valka I have left. No matter how exasperated I was at you-and you were a stubborn, disobedient boy…" Hiccup managed a watery smile of acknowledgement at these words. "No matter, I should never have treated you so badly. I should never have humiliated you. I should not have spoken so cruelly to my boy. And I should never ever have struck you. I am so sorry, son. I know you may never forgive me, but I have to ask you to consider one day letting me make up to you."

Hiccup blinked. His eyes were burning with tears.

"Come home, son. Be my son-my Heir-once more!" he pleaded. Hiccup closed his eyes and Astrid felt his ragged breathing through their contact. She sighed. Hiccup needed his home now he was sick. He needed people around him. He needed more than she could provide.

"You should go," she murmured, forcing the fear from her voice. "You deserve it, Hiccup. That was what you wanted, wasn't it?" There was a small nod, the shamed admission of his victory. "So you should go home. They can look after you, treat you, make sure you learn to walk properly. You can teach the village about dragons and help ensure the peace is a lasting one."

"What about you, Astrid?" he asked in a small voice. She gave a small sigh.

"Stormfly and I will be fine: we're warriors," she said with false cheerfulness. "You need to be here. You want to be here. And I can't." She half-turned. "I-I don't mind-you deserve it. Honestly."

His head was pounding and his leg was excruciating but he could hear the slight note in her voice, the edge she tried to conceal. She did want him to go home-but it would mean she was alone. He blinked. He had been alone for years and years, ostracised by the village and his family. Now she was being treated the same for her treatment of him…which he had forgiven her for. The village had punished her because they refused to punish themselves. And he could leave her to it, because she was brave and capable. Because she still scared him. Because she had hurt him so badly and left him to die-though not alone by any means. Because she did deserve some punishment.

Just not this.

"N-no," he murmured softly. "Unless you are forgiven, I can't stay either. I gave my word, Astrid. I promised that I would stay with you, until you were safe."

"This is what you wanted," she insisted. He took a shuddering breath, the warmth of his fever seeping through into her. "It's what you need!"

"And a few words will make it alright? Years of torture, of being ignored, of being hated?" His voice was bitter. She half-turned.

"Consider it, Hiccup," she advised him gently. He gave a small nod, his head pounding with a headache as the sun sank below the horizon. They stared a little longer as the Chief stared at them, then turned and walked away. "Really consider it," she murmured. But he just hung onto her and as the night fell, they wheeled up, with Stormfly at their side and dived down low over the harbour, skimming the waves and soaring silently round the seasick that supported Gothi's home, spirally tightly up and landing on the deck with a gentle thump. The door had opened by the time Astrid had helped the limping Hiccup from the saddle and turned to the small, hunched shape of the Elder. She took one glance at the flushed, listing shape of the boy and helped Astrid manoeuvre him in.

He didn't resist as she lay him down on the couch, didn't protest as she pulled his pants off completely, leaving him in his skivvies and deftly unstrapping the prosthesis from the inflamed and purulent stump. The red tendrils that had marred his skin were, if anything, worse than when Astrid had inspected them earlier and she flushed under the Elder's sharp glare.

"I tried to get him back sooner but…he is as stubborn as any true Viking," she sighed and Gothi rolled her eyes. She had dealt with Stoick and Stoick's father so she knew had bone-headed the Haddocks were. Hiccup lazily opened his eyes and ghosted a small smile.

"Gee, thanks," he murmured wearily, sarcastic as ever. Gothi spilled sand on the floor and scraped a series of symbols in it-and Astrid peered at them.

"She asks how long your leg has been hurting like this?" she read.

"Um…the day after we left Berk," he admitted in a small voice. Astrid winced and looked away and he caught her expression with a sigh. "It's not your fault, Astrid. I couldn't come back. I just couldn't face here…"

"Hiccup-you need to be here," she said in a thick voice. "I-I can't do this. I can't let you risk yourself when you need proper care…I've hurt you too much already…" He beckoned her over but she withdrew to the far side of the room, her head turned away and eyes shining with guilt.

"Astrid-come here!" he commanded, his voice harder than he had intended. She looked up and met determined forest green eyes. Hiccup looked smaller than ever, his scrawny shape dwarfed by the couch, his pale and drawn face flushed with fever. He beckoned her closer. "I chose to leave-not because I had to but because I needed to," he told her softly. "I could see that staying wouldn't make them change. Everything would carry on, no matter what I said or what they promised. I would continue to be Useless and everything I achieved would be a fluke. My father would talk over me and convince himself he was listening, would imprison me like a cripple and convince himself he was protecting me. And you were treated badly and unfairly and they still wouldn't accept that."

"But you need to stay here because you are sick…" she argued. "I-I can't risk you just for me…" He sighed, feeling sick.

"Astrid, no one has cared what happened to me for so long that it really doesn't matter," he sighed wearily, wincing as Gothi bathed and salved his raw stump. "I can't endanger you because I am too weak…" And the edge to his voice had her turning back to inspect him very closely. The wounds he bore she couldn't see-the deep and festering scars on his confidence and self-worth-were barely scabbed and she realised it took precious little for him to consider himself as Useless as the entire village made him feel. Toothless had given him some self-worth…but the events preceding his battle and his insecurities since meant that little flicker of self-confidence was very precarious.

"Stay here for the moment," Astrid suggested. "I'll go and see my family. If-if you still want to leave after I return, you can come with me…" He looked at her and frowned.

"Take Toothless," he said quietly. "He will protect you and if I need to get away, I can ride Stormfly with my leg. Otherwise, Toothless would be trapped." Astrid scowled: if she had planned to sneak away from Berk on Stormfly, leaving Hiccup where he belonged, he had foiled her plan. He inclined his hand gently. "Astrid-I won't leave you," he promised. "Don't leave me, please?" With a sigh, she nodded and walked to the door. Toothless gave a little croon and nudged Hiccup. The sick boy gave his dragon a gentle rub.

"I want you to look after Astrid, Toothless," he murmured. "Look out for her like she was me. I'll be here, waiting…" Toothless gave him a small lick, then turned to the door and walked after her. She looked back at the Night Fury.

"I'll bring him back safe," she promised then left. Hiccup looked up at Gothi's wrinkled face and sighed. The Elder pottered closer, her wrinkled hands bearing a bowl of interesting smelling broth-though knowing the Hairy Hooligans, it was probably yak. He hitched himself up, inspecting the bowl carefully. He wasn't really feeling hungry but she gave him a look that said very plainly 'You are far too skinny already, lad.' He lifted the bowl and began to drink the broth. It was thick and meaty and nowhere near as bad as it smelled. Hiccup feel sick and rapidly full but the Elder threatened him with her staff until he had finished the lot. Then she fed him a light minted tea and he swallowed wearily. He suddenly felt very full and very tired.

"Was that a sleeping draught?" he asked drowsily and she nodded. He lay back, too weary to remain sitting up. "I-I know you mean well but I gotta leave when she gets back, Gothi…it's not safe for me-or her-here…" She gently stroked his hot forehead and laid a cold compress on his forehead. He gave a thankful little sigh and then his too-bright eyes fluttered closed. She twitched the blanket up over his little form and sighed. Her runes hadn't fallen well for the boy and she knew he had more challenges before he could find the happiness he deserved.

oOo

Astrid flew Toothless quietly round the periphery of the village, her clumsiness with the tail fin embarrassing the shield maiden. She hated being less than perfect in everything-but Hiccup had flown Toothless daily since they had met: she had flown the dragon for a few hours and very little of it had been using the tail other than to maintain position. Toothless was clearly unhappy as well-he still didn't like Astrid because she had harmed his little Viking badly-but he wanted to obey his beloved Hiccup and get this task over as quickly as he could. They swooped down across the harbour, then soared over the cliffs and managed to come round towards the Hofferson home from the back, shielded by the last spur of forest that grasped the village from the back of the mountain. Toothless landed agilely on the roof and Astrid slid off, glancing up at the jet shape against the brilliant stars.

"I won't be long," she promised and slid through the roof hatch into her old bedroom.

Nothing had changed: her bed with its patchwork blanket constructed from leftovers so her good blanket could be passed on to her little brothers; her chest with its meagre contents in terms of clothes neatly folded; her fur winter hood wrapped ready for use; her daggers and bow. She sighed and then heard the creak of footsteps on the stairs. She turned in shock and wariness to the door-and then Olaf Hofferson peeked in. She blinked twice-then flung herself into his arms.

"Dad!" she gasped, tears springing from her eyes. His arms tightened around her and she felt herself curl into his embrace, feeling safe and warm. Finally, she swatted her face dry and stared up at her father-and gasped.

His hair was really really short. She raised a hand and her eyes popped wide with shock.

"Dad? What happened?" she demanded, her sea-blue eyes sparking with anger. He sighed and pulled her downstairs.

"Have a seat, lass," he murmured. "This may take some time…"

oOo

Stoick was striding down the village rapidly. His patience had paid off and he now had everything he wanted. A quartet of his best warriors were at his back as he began the steep climb down and across to Gothi's isolated home. He motioned them and as soon as they saw the winged shape of the dragon, the bolas were flung. All hit their mark and the reptilian shape collapsed, ensnared, with a pitiful squawk. Stoick lifted his sword and motioned his men to move forward as he approached the door of the Elder's House.

oOo

"Dad-what _happened?_ " Astrid asked firmly. She had been at the Thing and knew what had been said but she could tell her father was worried. He scooped her a ladle of stew from the pot and gave her a hunk of bread, inviting her to eat while they talked. He ran his hand over his almost shaven head and grimaced at his stubble.

"Stoick decided to change the terms of the agreement shortly after you and Hiccup left," he said quietly. Astrid almost choked on her stew, her face furious.

"WHAT?" she exploded. "I-I thought Gobber said…" Olaf sighed heavily.

"The agreement amongst the Elders and the Village was exactly as Hiccup wished and Gobber said…to start with," he revealed slowly, obviously choosing his words with care. She wasn't fooled, having known and loved him all her life: Olaf Hofferson was furious. "But within a couple of days, there was a change. There had been protests and denials of responsibility-especially from Spitelout and his extended family and connections. They claimed…" And he stopped.

"Claimed, what, Dad?" Astrid asked softly. Olaf stared at the floor, his breathing heavy and harsh as he tried to master his temper.

"Claimed that Snotlout and Spitelout should face no censure for attempting to rape you and for attacking you, daughter," he growled. Her face paled and she almost dropped her stew.

"What? Why?" she asked in a low voice. She found she was trembling, the memories of those fevered, terrifying moments surging back. She found her heart was racing and she was breathing fast.

"I am so sorry, my love," he breathed. "They claimed you had already been declared without honour by the Chief. That your status-so low, so devoid of honour as result of that declaration- meant that assaulting you simply wasn't a crime because you had no virtue to take."

She did drop the bowl then, the clatter loud in the room that was silent save for the crackle of the fire and the deep angry sounds of Astrid's breaths.

"I what?" she demanded.

"Stoick removed your honour, your virtue and all your prospects by his declaration," Olaf said tonelessly. "Not my words. I had tried to claim blood-feud for your hurt but I was laughed out of the Thing. The Jorgensons are so powerful and our family so weak and dishonoured that no one would stand by us as I made the claim. The Chief would not support me. Snotlout is in prison with his father because they almost beat Hiccup todeath-not because they tried to rape you…or him." Astrid closed her eyes.

"How did they explain that?" she whispered, having prevented that injury herself. "He was going to do it, Dad-I was there. And he will try again..."

"By removing your honour, your testimony was discredited," Olaf said quietly. Astrid stared at him, speechless. "And when Hiccup made his claim, Snotlout claimed it was youthful high spirits and that Hiccup asked him to…well… _see to him_. I think he was implying the boy preferred…other boys…" Astrid blinked.

"That couldn't be more untrue," she breathed. "Oh gods, please tell me this isn't happening. Hiccup has-used to-pine after me. He was so ashamed when Snotlout tried to hurt him. Please…Dad…don't tell me…"

"Stoick bought it," he murmured. "He prefers to believe the Heir and his brother than his weak, scrawny, unmasculine son." Astrid covered her eyes.

"They're already trying to abrogate blame," she sighed. "I don't count, Hiccup is gay…what next?"

"The Jorgensons and their allies have turned the Council again," Olaf revealed. "They had Sven, Lars, Fafnir, Berholdt and Thorstein to lobby the Chief to alter the punishments. There seem to be two classes of Elder-and I'm in the less important one, it seems. They never cut their hair-though the wider village has. And they insisted that Fishlegs and I did join in."

"You were exempted by Hiccup," Astrid pointed out.

"They didn't like that," he said sadly. "They wanted to be in charge. They didn't want a despised, skinny fifteen year old calling the shots-no matter what great deed he may have done. They didn't want him pointing out all their self-interest and misdeeds and making them apologise and face up to their malfeasance. Especially since word has gotten out of his exploits. Stoick is almost beside himself to get the boy back because he is to be paraded as _Berk's Pride_ to the visiting Chiefs."

"Oh gods," Astrid murmured.

"But there is widespread ill-feeling, because word has gotten round that making us look like slaves is just revenge for his treatment, not a mark of repentance," Olaf said. "Because I don't think there is any true repentance. I think they all believe they have moved on and they have already forgotten how badly they treated the boy. That those responsible have been punished so they are absolved. And no one-no one-will stand up for you. They still seem to think what you did to him on that one night, abetted and helped by Snotlout and the twins who admitted doing most of the damage, was worse than what Snotlout did to him daily for five years! What they did to him all his life! No matter that you stood by him and brought him back to be treated, that you were by him every day. That you expressed true remorse to him, over and over. We have few allies-mainly Gobber and Gothi…and they are being ignored. Stoick still doesn't want to admit any fault on his part. He still believes he is simply being a good Viking father."

"Then…then what he said today…was a _lie_!" Astrid realised. Olaf frowned. "We were on the seastacks, watching Stoick do his penance. He shouted to Hiccup that he was sorry and wanted to make it up to him. I could tell Hiccup was torn, that he felt guilt at leaving Berk and the promise really made him want to stay..."

"He's here?" Olaf gasped. Astrid nodded, suddenly feeling cold.

"He's in danger?" she guessed, leaping up. He nodded.

"Stoick has men watching Fishlegs, Gothi, and Gobber because he guessed the lad would return to his friends," he revealed. "As soon as you landed, they will have told him." Astrid paled.

"Thor, he won't stand a chance!" she gasped. "Dad-he's ill. I had to bring him to Gothi because he has an infection in his stump. He's resting there…with Stormfly." He frowned.

"Your dragon…?" he frowned. "Then…?"

"Toothless is with me," she explained urgently. "I just came to see you and…" Olaf got to his feet and grabbed a bag, throwing dried meast and fruits, bread, cheese and salted boar in. He tied it and handed it to Astrid.

"Grab whatever things you need and go," he told her urgently. "I believe they are watching here too. And Astrid-Stoick won't have any mercy for you. He has fixated on you as the reason his son ran. He believes that his son would have remained here had you not enticed him away. That Hiccup would do as he was told."

"He doesn't know Hiccup," Astrid muttered, dashing up the stairs and throwing her warmer clothes and weapons in a saddlebag. Olaf made it up and grabbed her, hugging her fiercely.

"Nor you, my daughter," he said with pride. "I know you will regain your honour and return here on your own terms." He heard the hammering at the door. "Now-go! If he catches you, all is lost!" She nodded and threw the roof hatch open as the door burst open and she scrambled swiftly onto the roof. There were shouts and the sound of boots on the stairs as she swung into the saddle and opened the tail.

" _Toothless...GO_!" she hissed and the Night Fury leapt into the air as roars shouted from the room. A spear zipped past them and Toothless gave an angry roar, then arrowed away, Astrid hanging on. They swooped down straight across the village towards the Elder's House-but there were already men stationed on the deck of Gothi's house. Bolas flew at them and Astrid panicked and stamped her foot down.

They dropped from the sky unexpectedly and the bolas whipped over their heads before Astrid clung tighter onto the saddle and recalled Hiccup's gentle advice and regained control. Toothless growled as they spun and swooped away, avoiding more bolas. She saw Stormfly tangled in bolas, squawking pitifully at her Rider.

"STORMFLY!" she shouted in despair but the men were guarding her too well. And she knew that getting caught was not an option. Toothless gave a fierce roar and swooped low over the harbour, bearing the distraught Astrid away. "I'll be back girl-I promise," she whispered as they vanished from sight. She knew now that her desire to bring him home to save Hiccup's life had terribly backfired.

oOo

Hiccup had been dreaming of flying with Toothless and when a hand shook him. Still half-asleep, he fuzzily frowned and screwed his eyes closed. He felt disorientated and his head was still pounding while his leg remained agony. He was shaken again and his eyes reluctantly fluttered open.

And then he recoiled, pressing himself back into the pillow, cold horror grasping his aching body. Stoick leaned close over the terrified boy.

"Welcome home, son," he said.


	34. Chapter Thirty Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Severe angst ahead, along with some psychological and emotional abuse and suicidal thoughts.

**Thirty Four**

Time stood still for the boy, his breath hitching in his throat as he stared at the big face over him. His father was looking triumphant, his eyes glittering as if he had captured a prize boar and Hiccup felt all his old fears, his old anxieties rushing back with full force.

"D-dad?" he breathed fearfully. "What-what are you doing here?"

Stoick stared at him in surprise."I am collecting my son and taking him home!" he said simply.

"But Dad-we agreed," he argued gently. "I am not staying in Berk. Please, let Gothi treat me and then I will go." Stoick laughed at him.

"Nonsense!" he said briskly. "You are home now. And you don't need to go anywhere. You don't need to ride that dragon any more, in fact. You just need to attend to your duties."

_Oh please Odin, don't let this be happening. Please let this just be the fever. Let this be a hideous nightmare…_

"Dad-I love Toothless. He is my best friend and if I can't fly him, I would rather die. I am a dragon rider, Dad."

"No," Stoick said sternly. "You are my son. You will come home and we will forget about this stupidity. I will make you my Heir once more. I will continue with your Chief training and I will have Gobber make you a more suitable leg for your duties…" Hiccup swallowed fearfully.

"So you want to make me a cripple and a prisoner," he said sarcastically though his heart was frozen with despair. "You take away the one thing I love and the one person that means more to me than life and trap me as a one-legged runt once more. I suppose the others will keep their dragons?"

"They are needed to defend the village, son," Stoick told him as if it were obvious.

"And me? I am far the best rider and trainer. They need me…"

"I am sure my nephew can lead them once he is free," Stoick retorted airily. Hiccup stared at him, disgust and despair warring in his chest.

"Snotlout doesn't have a clue," Hiccup told him dryly. "He could ride for a hundred years and he won't be able to do what Toothless and I can do. And where is he, Dad?" Stoick paused and Hiccup felt his breath congeal in his throat, time suspended. Please…not dead…

"I don't know," Stoick said. "Isn't that your responsibility? We caught a Nadder outside Gothi's. It is in the arena." _Thank Thor. Twice. Toothless is free and Stormfly should be unharmed. But where is Astrid?_

"Dad-you can't just lock her up-it will make her crazy and very frightened!" he protested.

"It's just a dragon, son-it hardly counts…"

"She is a living, breathing creature that feels pain and fear and confusion just like I am right now!" Hiccup shouted, then recoiled as he saw Stoick's face suffused with growing rage. "Dad-please…if you love me…let me go!"

"It's because I love you that I am taking you home, to safety," he stated firmly, though his fists tightened. Hiccup stared up into his face.

"So it was all a lie," he realised, his tone accusing. "All the things you said-nothing was true. You only meant to trick me back and then imprison me." He tried to sit up, to get away but Stoick scooped the boy up in his arms, wrapping the fur around the skinny body. He cast the shocked Gothi a dismissive look.

"Please come and treat his leg tomorrow," he said grimly.

"NO! Let me go!" Hiccup shouted and his father wrapped the blankets tight around the boy, his hand pressed over his mouth, muffling his fearful cries. The Chief cast a glance at the prosthesis and nodded disparagingly to Gothi.

"And take that back to Gobber for recycling. I'll have a more proper one made for him tomorrow. Wood was good enough for his great great grandfather-and it will be good enough for him." Hiccup struggled but his fever wracked limbs had even less strength than normal and he was pinned, helpless and wrapped like a parcel. "Keep still, boy-you're going home!" Stoick said.

_But it's not my home. Toothless-where are you?_ he silently cried as he was carried, helpless up the hill back to his prison in the Chief's house.

oOo

Astrid landed in the cove and looked wildly around. She couldn't understand how this had gone so very wrong. Hiccup had needed medical help and Stoick had captured the helpless and fever-riddled boy and would have taken him to his home. The boy was trapped, would be afraid and separated from Toothless. Astrid collapsed to her knees and sobbed.

Gently, the Night Fury nuzzled her. The dragon gave a gentle little croon and rubbed her softly. He still didn't trust her but they had both lost someone they loved and he could tell the girl was unhappy. He gave her a small lick: that always seemed to cheer up his little Viking and the dragon was pleased when the female lifted her eyes and gave a small smile.

"Thanks, Toothless," she said thickly. "But what can I do? Stormfly has been captured and Hiccup…has been taken back home. I know he didn't really want to stay…but I gotta check." She swallowed. "Gothi's house is being watched but if we go back in a few hours, maybe we could find out what happened?" The dragon bounced to his feet and his eyes widened in sudden excitement. He bounced and nudged her with his saddle. She gave a small laugh. "Easy, Toothless," she murmured. "We gotta wait…and let them think we've gone…"

oOo

Hiccup had stopped struggling when Stoick took his back up to his room. His bed had been restored to where it had always been and all the gifts his village had left him were neatly stacked on his desk. His father firmly laid him down on the bed, tucking the blanket in tightly and pulling it determinedly up to his chin. "There!" he said with satisfaction. "Back home where you belong."

Hiccup stared up rebelliously, not saying anything because he guessed it would be a waste of effort. He was still exhausted, his head ached and his leg was amazingly painful. And now he was swathed in anxiety and fear because he was back in Berk. He watched his father turn and stomp down the stairs, leaving his son lying in the dark, the only illumination the reflected light of the fire, dying down in the fire pit in the main room. His leg was taken, his dragon was gone and his friend and companion had been left behind. He doubted his father would even trust him to work with Gobber now: he was more alone than he had ever been.

He had tossed and turned but he had slept because he had been exhausted and in the morning, his head had stopped aching. He sat up slowly, his body feeling weak from hunger. He couldn't get down for food…unless… He swallowed. Yesterday, he had been living with Astrid in a cave, cooking their own food and caring for themselves. He would not be turned into a prisoner. So he swung his legs over the side of the bed and slowly lowered himself to his knees. His left knee ached because the whole lower leg was very painful but he crawled to the top of the stairs, then scooched down on his rear until he reached the ground floor.

His father was there, looking up from his papers as he awaited his son. He gave a small smile. "Good to have you back, son," he said as if nothing had happened. Hiccup pushed himself up to his foot and rested his hand against the wall.

"I want my leg back," he said firmly, not acknowledging the greeting. "Then I want Toothless and then I am going." Stoick lowered the Treaty he was reviewing and frowned.

"Gobber is making you a new leg-a proper leg," he said firmly. "You will not ride dragons again-and the Night Fury has gone. And you are going nowhere!"

"What about my job at Gobber's?" Hiccup asked quietly, hoping against hope he was wrong.

"You will be too busy with your duties as Heir to waste time in the forge!" Stoick told him flatly.

_What duties? All Snotlout did was bully people. I never had anything to do when I was Heir-but maybe that was just me..._

"Dad-working with Gobber is literally the only skill I have to offer!" he protested, his heart sinking right down to his boot. "Gods, you want to turn me into a prisoner and make me a parasite on the village! At least let me work on weapons and tools to earn my keep!"

"That is my final word, Hiccup!" Stoick said.

"Well, it isn't mine!" he said desperately. "Look, Dad-I understand you can't accept what you did to me-but you are doing it and worse now. I need to be me, to be Hiccup. I can't just become a shadow of you. It will…destroy me!" Gods, it will destroy me. I don't want to live if that is all I can look forward to...

"Nonsense!" Stoick told him loudly. "You have a duty as my Heir and…"

"I AM NOT YOUR HEIR!" Hiccup shouted at him. Stoick rose to his feet slowly.

"You will be," he said. "I will make the new declaration tonight." Hiccup shook his head and tried to back away-unsuccessfully as he was almost back against the wall anyway.

"Oh no, no,no,no,…" Hiccup begged. "Please, Dad! For once, will you just listen to me?"

"Son, it is all arranged and…"

"NO! YOU HAVE TO LISTEN TO ME!" Hiccup yelled at him. "I am not going to be your Heir. I am leaving and…"

"NO! You will LISTEN to ME!" Stoick roared, his patience exhausted as he advanced rapidly on his son, watching as Hiccup pressed his thin body hard against the wall, his green eyes wide with fear. "The other Tribes are coming to see the Pride of Berk, who stopped the raids and saved not only us but the other Tribes from the dragon menace!" Hiccup recoiled further. "So you WILL be my Heir again and you will NOT shame me by behaving like some dragon-loving freak! You will be the perfect Heir, Hiccup, or I will kill that dragon!"

Hiccup stared at him in shock, breathing hard. He swallowed, feeling the anxiety tighten around his chest like an iron band.

"You're a monster," he breathed. Stoick grabbed his face and glared deep into the desperate green eyes.

"No, I am your Chief," he snarled. "And you will do what I order or, by the gods, Hiccup, I will make your life a foretaste of Hel!" Then he let the boy go and he buckled to the floor, shivers wracking his body. The door opened and Stoick grabbed his arm, hauling the boy onto a chair and bowing slightly to the hunched shape of Gothi. "He's just woken, Elder. He's ready for your attentions, now."

Hiccup waited until he left before breathing again, his face white and stray tears streaking his face. He had felt as terrified as he had before he had met Toothless-but now, he had no idea what he could do. He couldn't even walk, let along run away. He would never be allowed to go into the forest and spend time alone or draw...or find another dragon. And he feared that his father would kill Stormfly if he didn't co-operate. He felt utterly trapped. He closed his eyes-and then Gothi tapped him. He swallowed and fashioned a respectful look. But she patted his shoulder and looked sympathetic.

"Help me," he breathed. "I need my proper leg and Toothless. And Astrid…oh, gods, I need Astrid!" Gothi wagged a finger and shimmied his pants up, then began to unwrap his leg. "Or don't treat me, Gothi. I would rather die than stay here!" She ignored him, taking warm water from the pot and mashing up a paste to rub into his wounded stump, then rebandaging the infected area. She fed him a draught to bring down his fever and ease the infection and aches in his body. He obeyed listlessly, suddenly without the energy to fight. Gothi frowned then patted his middle. He sighed.

"No, I've not eaten," he admitted. With a shake of the head, the Elder searched the house and found him meat and bread. She pointed and he sagged. "But I want to leave. Why won't he listen? Do you know where my leg is?" She sighed as the door opened and Gobber walked on. The blacksmith was as bluff and cheerful as ever, grinning broadly at the pale, skinny shape. He waved a wooden object at the boy.

"I brought yer new leg!" he exclaimed cheerily. Hiccup sighed.

"Not you too," he groaned. "Gobber-I want my OLD leg." The blacksmith sighed.

"The thing is…yer Dad has ordered you have a proper peg leg!" he said in an embarrassed voice. Hiccup stared up at him and his eyes were so filled with hurt that Gobber had to look away. "I know, lad-but he is the Chief!"

"And I am his son-and I gave my leg to save this village," Hiccup protested as the new prosthesis was given to him. "I want to be able to walk and run and get away from here! Gobber-he won't even let me work with you any more. Please-you have to talk to him. Please…" Gothi tapped the blacksmith with her staff and he scowled.

"Yeah…Gothi wants me to remind me that yer old leg is safe," he said gruffly.

"Where?" Hiccup asked directly, his shining eyes fixed on his mentor. Gothi narrowed her eyes. Then she tapped a finger to his chest.

"With Toothless and Astrid," Gobber explained. Hiccup's eyes widened.

"They haven't left me?" he gasped, his throat thickening with relief. He felt his eyes burn with tears and he took a choking breath. "Oh Thor, thank you. I-I had feared…" Gothi patted his hand gently. She gently scratched a few symbols on the floor.

_Be patient…_ she advised and he gave a watery smile.

"I-I can only hold out for so long," he murmured. "Because I can't cope with being locked up like a prisoner. I can't cope with being treated like a slave. But I will try…as long as you promise you will help get me out…" They both nodded and he took a shuddering breath, swiping the tears off his face. Then, with a weary sigh of resignation, he lifted the peg leg and fastened the straps around his swollen and painful leg. He hissed and grimaced, then slowly, he levered himself to his feet. He wobbled.

"How the Hel do you stand on this thing, Gobber?" he asked, frowning. He felt distinctly unstable and unsupported on the peg leg. His own prosthetic had a wider base and springing that made walking far more natural. The primitive wooden prosthesis made his gait a real lopsided limp and he couldn't imagine himself ever running or moving normally-as he had already tried with his own leg. Gobber shrugged.

"Meh! Bin using it since before yer were born!" he commented and Gothi rolled her eyes. "But I know the leg I made yer was far better," he added in a low voice. "I will work on a new one as well, laddie." Hiccup managed a watery smile but Gothi scratched on the floor again. "Oh-and yer to keep yer weight off it and only walk very short distances until yer leg is fully healed…" he translated. Then he sighed. "Gotta go. Those weapons ain't gonna mend themselves and my apprentice has been retired on the orders of the Chief!" His tone was bitter. Hiccup sighed.

"I am sorry, Gobber," he offered. Gobber shrugged.

"Keep yer chin up, lad," he said as he held the door open for Gothi. "And try not to anger Stoick. He's been turned against yer. If you anger him, yer may not like the results!"


	35. Chapter Thirty Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Severe angst ahead, along with some psychological and emotional abuse and suicidal thoughts.

**Thirty Five.**

Head down and hunched under a cloak, Astrid carefully sneaked round the back of Fishlegs' home. She knew she was taking a huge risk but the house was on the edge of the town and it was quiet. It didn't stop all her nerves being on edge or her heart pounding in her chest. Her father's words kept rolling in her head

Stoick won't have any mercy for you. He has fixated on you as the reason his son ran. He believes that his son would have remained here had you not enticed him away.

She ducked back as she heard footsteps and watched the front porch carefully. Her hood was pulled right up over her face and her axe was strapped to her back, but she wasn't risking being seen, hugging the shadows and every sense straining. Gothi had given her Hiccup's leg and had warned her what had happened and Gobber had promised to help as well. Astrid had been given a whole satchel of poultices for Hiccup's leg and herbs for draughts to treat infection and fevers. Gothi had explained (via a large amount of floor scratching and staff whacks) that Hiccup, though he was determined and brave, wasn't physically strong and was prone to chest injections and fevers in the winter-moreso now since he had lost weight and recently suffered such a severe illness.

The door creaked open and a bulky shape scuttled out. Fishlegs didn't move like a big man, his motions timid and still very self-conscious as he beckoned his dragon out. Meatlug trundled out and he gave a loud 'ooo' and hugged her, his face filled with adoration. Astrid glared at him as they idled by the front porch, playing and enjoying the grey afternoon.

"Fishlegs!" she hissed. His blue eyes popped wide open and he spun, staring wildly in the direction of the hiss.

"ASTRID!" he gasped. "What are you doing here?" He was almost squeaking in shock. She beckoned him over and Meatlug followed. Astrid patted the gentle Gronckle automatically.

"Hiding-obviously," she hissed.

"Don't you know what's been going on?" he asked her in an urgent voice. She shook her head. "He's gone back on most of what was agreed. Snotlout and Spitelout have gone to jail-for almost killing Hiccup, not the…other things. You are to be arrested on sight. And Hiccup has come back, so we must all be forgiven…"

"You aren't!" Astrid snapped back, her eyes glittering. "I took him to Gothi last night because his stump was really badly infected. Stoick was watching and snatched Hiccup, capturing Stormfly as well. Toothless is with me. Hiccup didn't want to come back. He was very upset-because he knew that no one-especially Stoick-had yet acknowledged the wrongs they had done."

"But…but Stoick has announced that Hiccup has come back and has forgiven us!" Fishlegs told her in a surprised voice. "He's making Hiccup his Heir this evening!" She gaped in shock.

"This isn't what he wanted!" she told him urgently.

"But…but the Chief said…"

"Speak to Hiccup, not Stoick," she hissed. "The Chief still doesn't think he did anything wrong. So he talks over Hiccup and does what Stoick wants, not what Hiccup does. See Hiccup, PLEASE! Ask him if he wants to be Heir. Look to see if he has his metal leg-or a wooden peg leg. Ask if he's being allowed to fly a dragon or work in the forge. And ask if he is actually happy or feels like a prisoner!"

"Erm…why are you with Toothless?" Fishlegs asked warily. She sighed.

"When Hiccup was in Gothi's his leg was so bad he couldn't work the pedals on Toothless's tail so he asked me to fly him," she explained quickly. "I wanted to take Stormfly to see my Dad-and then leave him here because I thought he would be better off here because he was sick. But he made me take Toothless because he guessed what I was doing…and he begged me not to leave him. He didn't want to stay, Fishlegs. I was willing to go it alone but he insisted…he wanted to come with me." Her eyes suddenly betrayed her worry.

"Fishlegs," he was scared his father would make him a prisoner, prevent him from going out, working with Gobber, being free. And I think that is what is happening. He needs his friends…and he needs to get away. Gods…you haven't heard him screaming with nightmares every single night. And every night he is begging Stoick not to take Toothless away from him. If he is locked away from his dragon, I cannot see him surviving!"

Fishlegs stared into her face and he took a breath. He liked Hiccup and was genuinely sorry for how he had neglected and ignored the smaller teen. He had asked to be Hiccup's friend-and that would mean doing what was right for Hiccup. He nodded. "Okay," he sighed. "But…"

"I'll be in contact," Astrid promised, her head snapping round. She could hear steps approaching. "Gotta go. And Fishlegs-watch him closely. He will be unhappy and scared: he desperately needs a friend until I can get Toothless to him!" And then she ducked away and dashed into the bushes as his father rounded the corner.

"Anything up, son?" he asked suspiciously. Fishlegs hugged Meatlug, suddenly feeling cold fear prickle down his spine: he no longer knew who he could trust.

"No, Dad- I was just chatting with Meatlug…" he said quickly, looking away and hoping no one had heard his conversation.

oOo

Hiccup was curled on his hard bed, dozing. He couldn't relax completely to sleep but he was exhausted and he knew his body was still fighting the infection. His head had ached a little though he guessed it was from frustration and misery as much as from fever. He just wanted Toothless. But he found himself tense and on alert as he heard the heavy thud of his father's steps, coming up the stairs. He stiffened as Stoick made the loft platform that was his room.

"Tidy yourself up, son," Stoick ordered sternly. "We eat in the Great Hall this evening." Hiccup stared and a horrible flash of deja vu swept over him: this echoed the horrible nightmare he had endured only yesterday. He didn't bother arguing, merely grabbing a fresh tunic, changing quickly and pulling his fur vest on.

"Yes, Dad," he said wearily. He knew there was no point in arguing. His father had made his mind up and he had seen how unsuccessful challenging that was.

"Tonight, the village feasts and my son is the guest of honour!" Stoick informed him. Hiccup groaned.

"Dad…" he whined , "you know I had help in ending the war."

"And other riders will be there," he reassured his son. Fishlegs and the twins. Gods, please not Snotlout! And...Astrid would;t be there. She was the one he really wanted there...

"I meant Toothless!" he protested.

"The dragon is gone" Stoick growled. "There will be no further nonsense! You need to forget this insanity and start behaving like a proper Viking." He turned back and handed the boy a bear fur cloak-like a smaller version of the Chief's. The Chief carefully wrapped the magnificent cloak around the boy and fixed it with a single large boss, etched with a black dragon that looked amazingly like Toothless. Hiccup peered down in shock and recognised the work of Gobber.-the identical boss from his dream. He was starting to feel very frightened and anxious because he knew how the dream ended. He exhaled slowly.

"This is a Chief's cloak," he asked hesitantly. "You disowned me."

"And you are the Chief's son!" he reminded the boy. Hiccup groaned. "Now buck up, son! We have to walk there!" Hiccup stopped and stared at him. His stump was agonisingly painful and he was completely unstable and unused to the wooden peg leg. He gave a shuddering sigh.

"I will never make it," he said softly.

"We walk," Stoick insisted shortly. Hiccup's shoulders slumped and he realised he was going to disappoint and anger his father again. Wearily, he started his unsteady limp out of the house wishing with all his heart that Toothless was with him. He took another limping step and winced, his stump jabbing white-hot daggers of pain into his leg. Stoick looked coolly down on his son.

"We walk," he repeated and Hiccup fell silent, concentrating all his energy, all his courage on putting one foot in front of the other. His pace was slow and uneven, his breathing ragged as he felt the pain increase to almost intolerable levels. Finally, as they reached the plaza and were making their very slow way to the long stair to the Hall, Hiccup stopped, his hands massaging his leg.

"Dad, what exactly have I done wrong?" he asked directly, his tone wary. He was breathing hard.

"Why do you ask?" Stoick's tone was surprised. "You already know, son." Hiccup sighed.

"I left Berk because I had been abused and neglected," he said quietly, trying not to tremble. "I was treated like I was useless and people even tried to kill me. I wanted to die. But when I return, I am imprisoned and punished like this when all I asked was for an apology." Stoick stared at his son, his eyes narrowing. He grasped Hiccup's shoulder and the boy tensed instinctively.

"An apology?" the Chief growled. "I have nothing to apologise for!" Hiccup gulped.

"Nor do I-but why am I having to walk so far when I haven't even managed to walk up the stairs yet?" he asked. "Dad, my leg hurts more than I can tell you. I'm feeling sick with the pain and I think my leg's gonna give way soon. You took away my metal leg that Gobber make-which was so much better than this-and gave me an old man's peg leg! I can't walk any further." Stoick instantly grasped the boy and swept him into his arms and the boy went rigid. "D-Dad?" he managed in a strangled whisper.

"You are my son, my only child, the only part of Valka I have left. No matter how exasperated I was at you-and you were a stubborn, disobedient boy…" Stoick told him in a disappointed voice. "But you are weak and cowardly I'm still ashamed of you."

Hiccup froze and stared.

"You're-you're still ashamed of me?" he whispered. "Then just let me go!" he pleaded. "Keep Snotlout as your Heir. You chose him instead of me. I don't want the job. Don't do this!" Stoick scowled.

"Son, this feast is for you," he said shortly. "You ended the war. You saved the Tribe. You deserve the credit that you are due-and you owe us more for all that trouble you caused and those false accusations you made. The Tribe is fed up of your self-pity and your mistakes. You need to make up and serve the Tribe as my Heir." Hiccup gulped and knew he was in desperate trouble now.

"But I can't do all the stairs," he said quietly. Stoick snorted in disgust.

"I'll carry you, son," he said with a growl. "As long as you walk in the door under your own steam, it will be fine." Hiccup tensed in his arms.

"Thor, help me" he breathed as the Chief started up the very long flight towards the double doors.

The Great Hall was packed to the rafters with villagers. Whole yaks, boars and sheep were roasting on the spits with chickens also crisping over the fires. The place was brilliant with torches. The air was already thick with the smell of mead and ale and the villagers all had mugs in their hands as the doors swung open and the Chief and his son arrived at last. Stoick raised a hand in greeting to his village.

"Yes, I know we took our time!" he bellowed. "But remember that Hiccup lost his leg and he is slow and clumsy. It took him hours to do the stairs." Hiccup's face was flushed with embarrassment, his green eyes fearful and head downcast. Then he sighed and lifted his chin to acknowledge the cheers of the village.

_"HIC-CUP! HIC-CUP! HIC-CUP!"_

Hiccup was anxious. He felt very exposed facing so many people-almost all of whom would have spat in his face before he had almost killed himself saving the village. And the last time he had been here, his father had beaten him and disowned him. The emotions were almost overwhelming. He took a couple of deep breaths as Stoick stared dangerously at the villagers. They all fell silent.

"Over the last few years, my son has been called many names," he said. "Runt. Fishbone. Screw-up. Useless." He paused. "Here are another couple. Hero. Saviour. The Pride of Berk." Hiccup snapped his head up to stare at his father. He had heard this speech before-and he felt himself rushing to the horrific ending. But Stoick was just getting going.

"He saved the village and killed the biggest dragon we have ever known of-the Red Death-in front of the village. And as the winner of Dragon Training, at that moment, he passed the class and won first prize!" The boy shivered. Dragon Training meant nothing now-especially now he felt in his heart Stoick would never let him see Toothless again.

"And so a few months ago, I was injured in a dragon attack. My son was blamed. But recently, I have found out that though he broke cover against my orders, he had done so because a younger boy was in grave peril. He left the safety of the forge and saved Gustav Larsson and in doing so, got himself trapped. I was injured saving him. But he was not allowed to explain himself and was cruelly treated for his supposed crime." He paused and the Jorgensons' supporters scowled at him. "As a result of this, I disinherited him, almost casting him from my life. Yet, despite that, he won dragon training and he showed leadership and tactical abilities that made me proud that he is my son."

_He hasn't mentioned Toothless once,_ Hiccup realised, his eyes burning with tears of misery. _And I couldn't have done any of this without him._ And he felt his father's hand rest heavily, possessively on his skinny shoulder.

"And though he is still a Hiccup in terms of size, in terms of courage, skill and achievements, he is a son to be proud of," the Chief said. "So today, I will right the error I was forced to make. Today, I officially reverse that decision: Hiccup is my son and my heir. He is the Heir to Berk, the Pride of our people and will, gods willing, be the next Chief after me.'

There was silence and a collective gasp. Hiccup blinked and looked up at his father, who was almost bursting with pride. And the boy knew what he had to say, knew what his father would do if he allowed this to continue. And he guessed the consequences.

"D-dad…" Hiccup breathed, his eyes shimmering with tears. "No."


	36. Chapter Thirty Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Severe angst ahead, along with some psychological and emotional abuse and suicidal thoughts.

**Thirty Six**.

Stoick's head swung round to stare at him.

"What do you mean 'No'?" he growled. Hiccup blinked and felt his entire body tighten with fear.

"I mean NO," he said firmly. "I will NOT become your Heir again. You didn't want me. You called me a disgrace to Berk, a disappointment, an embarrassment. You told me you were ashamed that I was your son. You made Snotlout your Heir and stated you were proud you had such a fine Viking as your successor. So keep him. I refuse."

He stared across the stunned village, the room suddenly silent. The crackle of the fires sounded astonishingly loud and his green eyes scanned the faces. There was shock, astonishment and anger that he had rejected the honour they bestowed upon him. He saw the twins with sagging jaws, saw Olaf Hofferson look at him with worry and Fishlegs mouth something…maybe ' _Are you okay?_ '.

"It is my WILL!" Stoick shouted.

"You never listened to me," Hiccup said breathlessly, his eyes pleading to Gobber and Gothi to help him. "You imprisoned me. You stop me going out. You have prevented me riding. You're isolating me. And you ignore everything I say or want. I was your Heir but you took that away."

"And I want you back!" Stoick snarled. "I have named you my Heir again."

"No," Hiccup said quietly. "You made your choice, Dad. I made mine. I want to leave. Let me go."

"No, son-you came back," Stoick said, trying to be reasonable. "You forgave…"

"NO, I NEVER FORGAVE YOU!" Hiccup shouted desperately, staring at at the shocked villagers. "I _never_ forgave you. You were never sorry. You just went back to exactly how you were. You talk over me, make me do only what you want-and take away everything that makes me…me. I won't become your Heir. I won't become YOU!"

Stoick grabbed the boy by the tunic and his face darkened red with rage. He shoved him across to Hoark and nodded. "Take him to my house," he growled. "I will deal with him later." Then he turned back to the village. "He is tired and ill," he said angrily. "That is the fever speaking. Hiccup is our Heir once more and he will make us all proud."

But as the boy was hauled out the door, all he could hear was the fury on his father's voice and he knew that he would pay a terrible price.

oOo

When the door slammed open, it was dark and late and he was trembling-cold, hungry and afraid. After making a fire and lighting candles, Hiccup had folded the fine cloak away and scooched up to his room on his rear. He had grabbed a little water and made up the draught Gothi had instructed and he was longing to take off the wooden peg leg…but he felt he needed to be able to stand on his own two feet when the worst happened. And as Stoick raged up the stairs, he knew it was about to.

"You little bastard!" Stoick roared and lunged at him. Hiccup staggered back out of range, swallowing.

_If only. I would be safe then,_ he thought despondently.

"I told you that you would pay!" he swore. "That Nadder is…"

"If you harm one scale on her, Dad, I will shame you and Berk to every visitor that ever sets foot on the island!" Hiccup swore, suddenly calm. "I will never be what you want me to be! And I will damage you! You know I can!" Stoick stared at him, then raised his fist and hit him. Unstable, unprepared, Hiccup went down with a crash, his head spinning and tasting blood in his mouth. He lay on his front, breathing hard.

"You will not defy me," Stoick swore. "I promised I would make your life Hel!"

"You already did!" Hiccup shouted at him, raising his head and staring up. "You did for years, tearing my confidence to pieces. Tearing me down in front of the village. Never standing up for me or even asking if I was okay. My life was Hel before-and you have managed to make it worse! Way to go!" He suddenly felt numb. Stock lurched forward, his fist clenched and he felt a shudder of fear run through him. "It's easier, isn't it, Dad? After that first time, hitting me? Each time, it's easier to raise a hand and strike me." Stoick grabbed his hair and hauled him up, then put his full force into a slap that spun the boy around and dumped him on the wooden floor once more.

"You will not defy me, boy!" he roared. "You will obey my will!"

"You want me as a performing seal!" Hiccup cried, his voice thick from his swollen mouth where the slap connected. "You want to parade me-look at my son-a weakling, one-legged runt but he still killed the monster dragon!-but I won't do it. You have stopped me going out, stopped me working, stopped me flying. You have taken everything I value. You have taken my life and made me a prisoner, a slave!"

"You think this is slavery?" Stoick snarled.

"No freedom, forced to do what you want, punished if I disobey, humiliated…yeah, feels much like it," Hiccup breathed, his voice shaky. He could hear his father's furious breathing, see the shadow looming over him in the candlelight and saw the flash of a knife. He froze and wondered if he had pushed Stoick too far, if he would just be killed. He felt a hand grab his hair and he felt his head dragged back.

"If you think this is slavery, I'll help make it more real for you!" Stoick snarled and the knife flashed. Suddenly, the pressure eased and a handful of hair fell past his face. Hiccup gaped as his father grabbed another handful of hair and hacked it off. "This was your punishment for the villagers," he snarled, sawing away at another hank of hair. "Try it, boy, See how you like looking like a slave!"

Shaking, his head spinning from the blows and fever, Hiccup just froze as his father sawed away. Finally, the Chief dragged the boy up by his tunic and glared into the white and bruised face. "I told you I would make you life Hel," he growled. "This is just the beginning-unless you obey me, boy!" The final punch dumped him hard on the floor as the footsteps receded. His hands closed on the uneven clumps of his auburn hair and his eyes filled with tears of pain and fear and hopelessness. Finally, mercifully, blackness claimed him.

oOo

Fishlegs felt awkward about knocking on the door of the Chief's House, but he forced himself to do it anyway. He had promised Astrid and she had looked very firm-and had been wearing her axe. Besides, he had been looking at Hiccup and the boy had looked so desperate when he refused to become the Heir that Fishlegs had felt his entire chest hurt with pity for the boy. Hiccup had been so isolated and despised that it must have taken a terrible thing for him to reject all that acceptance by the Tribe, to throw away the one thing he had always sought. Something was terribly, terribly wrong.

Stoick had admitted him, accepting his assurances that he wanted to ask Hiccup some questions about training his dragon. Hiccup was the acknowledged expert and Stoick guessed allowing the boy to feel as if he had some meagre connection with the reptiles may appease his complaints. So Fishlegs had warily climbed up the stairs to Hiccup's loft-a place he had last been over five years earlier when the boy still had friends and hope. And he found him huddled in a corner, his legs drawn up to his chest, his face buried in his knees.

Fishlegs gaped. His hair had been hacked carelessly away, leaving a very short and uneven cut. As the boy warily glanced up, he saw that Hiccup's face was swollen with bruises and his lips were swollen and cut. Stoick had really taken his anger out off the boy. He walked closer and peered down on the skinny shape. And his eyes lingered on the crude, wooden peg leg-so greatly inferior to the customised metal one Gobber had created for the boy that it was almost an embarrassment.

"Hiccup?" he asked timidly. The boy blinked and his green eyes focussed on the husky shape in front of him.

"Fishlegs?" he murmured. "What-what are you doing here?" Fishlegs knelt before him.

"Trying to see you," he murmured urgently. "How are you?" Hiccup gave a small shrug, his battered face passive.

"My leg's bad, I've been beaten and I'm locked up," he said tonelessly.

"You-you haven't forgiven us, have you?" he guessed, Hiccup's weary eyes flicked up.

"You were already forgiven, Fish, when you offered me your friendship," he said quietly. "I am so sorry they didn't do as I asked…" The larger boy gave a sigh.

"Where's Toothless?" he asked. Hiccup's eyes filled with misery.

"I-I don't know," he whispered. "I sent him off with Astrid…and then I was captured. They have Stormfly and I am threatened with her life if I disobey…but I couldn't accept what he offered. I'm already a prisoner in the house, not allowed out, not allowed to work or fly…I guess you are only allowed to see me because you are trustworthy…" He closed his eyes. "I want Toothless," he whimpered. "I want Astrid!" Fishlegs leaned closer.

"I have seen her," he whispered. "She wants to know how you are. She doesn't believe you wanted to come back." Hiccup looked up.

"No secret there," he murmured. "I thought she would run so I sent her with Toothless. But then my Dad showed and I was so glad he was safe and not in Dad's clutches. But then I guessed I would never see him again." He paused. "Life without Toothless is not worth living, Fish. If I can't get to him soon, I know I can't carry on." Fishlegs gaped.

"Don't do anything stupid!" he gasped. "She'll come. He'll come. You gotta hang on." He swallowed and inspected his hands, clumps of his hair still clasped in his palm.

"I…don't know if I can…" he whispered. "I can't even get to go out. I-I don't know what my Dad will do next…but I am scared, Fishlegs…" The larger boy paused and sighed heavily.

"All I know is that he is really keen for you to be presented to the Chiefs of our allied tribes, to tighten our protection because there have been rumours that we have gone soft…with all the dragons now living on the island," Fishlegs said quietly. "Some want to drive them off but Gobber and I have managed to persuade them that would cause more bloodshed. I suggested…your plan with the stables and feeding stations but no one wants to listen."

"No one _ever_ wants to listen," Hiccup said quietly. His hands were shaking. "I don't think they'll ever acknowledge what they did-and so nothing will change. And Berk will be trapped here and now, in the past. Nothing will move forward." He buried his face in his knees. "Thor, give me strength, now more than ever. And if you see Astrid-tell her to hurry! I really can't stand much more…" Fishlegs laid a kindly hand on the boy's thin shoulder.

"My Mum sent these," he muttered and gave Hiccup a couple of his mother's famous fishcakes. The boy paused for a second or so before tearing into them ravenously: he had been given no food at all since the previous lunchtime. The larger boy watched him with sad eyes: there was a blanket of utter despair over the smaller boy and he was very worried his friend would do something stupid. "I'll tell Astrid now!" he promised. Then he leaned close and his voice was very worried. "Just…please…hang on, Hiccup. She needs to make sure she doesn't come when Stoick is here or she and Toothless may be captured…or worse!" Hiccup looked up and fashioned a very small smile.

"I'll try," he murmured, running his hands over his short and spiky hair. "I'll try…"

oOo

As the day wore on, alone and unregarded, Hiccup curled in on himself even more. He glanced arose the room, seeing his few things that he had left when he ran last time and he achingly picked up his sketch book and charcoal. Slowly, his hand slid across the page, drawing from memory the familiar black shape with the big green eyes, the furled wings and half-tail: Toothless, his best and truest friend. The one who had never let him down.

But as the charcoal gently shaded the dark body, tears began to drip onto the page and the boy realised he was weeping. He stopped drawing but the tears kept coming: he felt utterly alone with no idea if he would ever seen his friend again, ever even be allowed to walk into the forest towards their cove once more. If he would ever be allowed to be Hiccup. The charcoal dropped from his shaking hand and he fumbled then slowly drew his belt knife.

_It would be quick and simple: no one would bother to check on him until it would be a long time too late. One quick cut and then just wait as his blood dripped away and all the pain left with it. One quick cut and it would all be like going to sleep, leaving all his horrible life behind. He would finally see his Mom and maybe Toothless would one day forgive him for leaving him alone. Maybe…maybe Astrid would as well… even though he had promised to stay with her. Would Toothless even understand? Would he understand when he came why Hiccup was lying pale and still, having opened his veins because he didn't have the strength to wait for them to come? Because Hiccup was too much of a coward to try to struggle on any longer?_

_No. They would come. Toothless always came._

_So he…he couldn't give up, no matter how scared and hurt and alone he felt. No matter how hungry and in pain and hopeless he was._

The knife clattered to the floor and he dropped his hand to the smudged picture of the Night Fury, his wide eyes staring trustingly up at his friend. "I-I can't l-leave you-you, b-bud…" Hiccup sobbed, almost beyond speech. He bent forward, over the sketchbook. "Please h-hurry…" he whispered. "Before I run out of courage…"

But as he lay there, sobs shaking his hopeless shape, a thud sounded above him and a small croon rumbled overhead. He stiffened and lifted his head slightly as he heard the roof hatch creak open and a familiar pair of sea-blue eyes peered down into the gloomy room.

"Hiccup?" Astrid called softly. "Are you okay?" He swallowed and lifted his battered tear-soaked face, his shining green eyes meeting hers.

"No," he murmured, his voice broken with despair. "P-please, Astrid…Help me…"


	37. Chapter Thirty Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Severe angst ahead, along with some psychological and emotional abuse and suicidal thoughts.

**Thirty Seven.**

 

Astrid's eyes widened as she inspected the little skinny shape sprawled on the floor of his bedroom and she felt guilt almost overwhelm her. She should never have brought him back to Berk, should never have left him. She leaned closer, seeing the swollen black bruises on his face, the split lip and fear in his green eyes. She gasped at his hair, hacked short and spiky and his clothes, almost hanging off his scrawny frame. She swung through the roof hatch and landed agilely on the hard bed.

In a second, she was by his side, seeing the tear-smudged picture of Toothless in front of him and-most terrifyingly-a naked dagger. She crouched down by him and gently extended a hand towards her friend.

"Hiccup?" she asked him softly. He slowly moved-and then she found him pressed against her, his arms locked fiercely around her body, his face buried in her shoulder and sobs shaking his body. She wrapped her arms around him, feeling his terrified and desperate search for human comfort and gave the boy a gentle pat on his back as she clung to her. "It's okay," she murmured softly. "Shhh, shhh…" But her senses were on alert because she was vulnerable and hunted.

Suddenly, he looked up. "We-we have to go," he whispered, his eyes swivelling towards the steps. "My-my Dad may be back any time!" Reluctantly, she pulled away and then looked around the room. Swiftly, she rose and lifted the cloak. He shuddered. "No," he said softly. "That is his, Astrid. It's not mine."

"Hiccup…it's a fur that will keep you warm," she told him practically, tossing it onto the bed and scanning the room. "We are leaving and you need to take everything you can to keep you alive." She snatched a handful of tunics, leggings and another boot. Then she lifted his sketch book and a spare journal, a couple of charcoals and bundled the whole lot up. She scanned the room, trying to see if she had missed anything and turned to the skinny boy to check: he pointed to the herbs Gothi had given him. She tucked them securely in her tunic, then grasped his hands and pulled him to his feet, wincing at his wobbling gait and helping him to stand on the bed, beneath the hatch. He looked up and sighed.

"I can't climb up," he sighed. He had been able to in the past but not now-and definitely not with this leg. She gave a smug grin.

"Toothless," she called and the dragon leaned over the hatch, warbled excitedly at his rider, then pulled away. Immediately, his tail coiled down and Astrid got Hiccup to stand on the thick bony end of the tail, between the fins, making him hold tight to the scaly muscular tail-and then Toothless pulled his tail-and his rider-back through. Swiftly, Astrid tossed the bundle up and then leapt, scrambling through quickly and snapping the hatch closed. She turned-to see Hiccup on his knees, hugging Toothless's head. He was shaking and she sighed with relief.

Truth be told, she had been frantic when she heard from Fishlegs that Hiccup was on the brink of despair and thinking of ending it all. She had known he was apprehensive about returning to Berk but the reality of what had happened had been far worse than she had ever dreamed. She had assumed his father would be delighted to have his son back and would have welcomed him, making adjustments to make the boy feel welcomed and valued-especially in light of what he had proclaimed on the cliffs. Instead, he had imprisoned the boy and punished him for basically being the person he was, the boy who had saved the village. It was everything he had feared: imprisonment, being forbidden to do all he loved and taken away from his dragon.

But Hiccup was still in danger and so was she. They were vulnerable: it was broad daylight and they were perched very obviously on the roof. She patted him gently on the shoulder. "We gotta go," she hissed and gently pulled him to his feet. She stowed the bundle and pulled him onto the dragon, then she took the saddle and opened the tail. "I have your proper leg but I would prefer to get away before we swap," she told him and his response was to wrap his skinny arms tightly around her.

"Thor, please just get me away from here," he said hoarsely. She nodded-as the hatch slammed open and the scarlet angry face of Stoick poked through.

"GET BACK HERE!" he shouted and she felt Hiccup flinch against her. His grip tightened fiercely and she knew he was terrified. Instinctively, she drew her axe, her other hand clamped tightly on the edge of the saddle.

"No-we're leaving!" she said breathlessly. "You have hurt him enough!"

"You cannot take my son from me!" he snarled. "You tried to kill him!"

"And you are killing him now!" she said angrily. "Hiccup is a brave and determined man-he just isn't a normal Viking. And your removing everything he is from him has almost destroyed him."

"He is my son," Stoick roared. "I decide what he will be and what he will do!"

"We're Vikings!" she replied bitingly, backing Toothless away as the Chief found himself struggling to fit through the hatch. "We don't just bow our heads and give up everything we are on someone else's say-so. We are stubborn and brave and hard-headed. Think about what you have done, Chief! One day, you will have to realise it is wrong!" And she leaned forward as Toothless leapt into the air, his huge wings flapping hard to lift them off as Stoick launched an axe at the dragon to bring him down.

But Astrid's axe clattered in to intercept the lethal assault and the Chief's weapon clanged away. Hiccup flinched and stole a glance at his father's furious face as the man roared his fury after them.

"You will never be welcome on Berk again!" he roared. "You leave and you NEVER come back!" Astrid felt the boy press against her and then slowly lift his head.

"Fine with me," Hiccup muttered as he clung tighter to Astrid. Toothless wheeled away and they abandoned all hope of stealth as Astrid directed the Night Fury straight over the village, screeching down the slope and banking right to head directly for the Dragon Killing Arena. "Stormfly is in danger," Hiccup told her softly. "I'm so sorry, Astrid-I just couldn't do what he wanted." She reached down and grasped his hand, squeezing reassuringly.

"It's not your fault," she assured him as they circled the woven chain dome of the arena and then found the hole Toothless has blasted during the final exam. "Can you make that bigger, Toothless?" she asked. The dragon inhaled, then unleashed an enormous plasma blast, blowing a hole four times the size it had been. They arrowed through and landed rapidly by the pens. The screech of a Nadder could be clearly heard.

"Stormfly!" Astrid shouted. "I'm coming, girl!" And she leapt from the saddle-but then she paused and fumbled in the saddlebags. She straightened up and handed a very familiar object to Hiccup. "I think you need this back," she said gently and handed him his leg.

He stared for a long moment and gave a quick nod, suddenly beyond words. He grabbed the prosthesis with shaking hands as she turned with a smile to free her dragon. He couldn't pull the straps for the peg leg free quick enough. He flung it away with all his strength, hearing the wood clatter across the stone floor and then, with utter relief, he strapped the familiar weight back onto his stump. And though his stump was still very sore and inflamed, gods, it had never felt more comfortable. He slid forward in the saddle and with a swift prayer, he clipped the prosthesis into the tail control system.

"I'm back, bud," he murmured, wincing at the pain. He would never complain of it again. "No one is going to separate us again." And then he looked up as Astrid wrestled the doors open and Stormfly burst out, screeching in indignation and sudden relief as her rider returned. He watched his friend embrace her dragon fiercely. This was the Astrid people rarely saw-affectionate, fiercely loyal and protective. She looked up and he was shocked to see tears swim in her gaze.

"Let's go," she said but he shook his head, his hands tightening on the saddle.

"No," he said in a low firm voice. "Free the others. They don't deserve the dragons-and the dragons certainly don't deserve Berk. Hookfang is imprisoned until Snotlout is out of jail and Barf'n'Belch are just too dangerous to leave with those twins!" She gaped: this was unexpected. But it did make sense, so she nodded, gave Stormfly a pat and swiftly unlocked every other pen, releasing the Monstrous Nightmare, the Hideous Zippleback and-starved and almost forgotten-a whimpering Terrible Terror. The little dragon could barely fly, so weak and starved was he, so Astrid picked him up and handed him to Hiccup, who cradled him in his arms. "Come with me," he murmured gently. Astrid leapt onto Stormfly and looked at him.

"Ready?" she asked and he nodded.

"Okay, bud-this is it!" he said roughly and they accelerated into the air, diving through the hole with Astrid and the riderless dragons at his back. But as they reached the village, they saw Stoick and his best warriors ranged there, bolas and axes ranged against them. Hiccup got Toothless to backwing and he hung in the air before them, with Astrid higher, covering them.

"TRAITOR!" Stoick snarled and Hiccup gave a low, mirthless laugh.

"Yesterday, I was the Pride of Berk and your new-old Heir…and now I am a traitor because I want to be able to walk and work in the forge and fly my dragon!" he called down, his voice almost not shaking. "In short, I want to be the person who _became_ the Pride of Berk again-but you don't want that. And if wanting to be myself is treason, then I am a traitor…and proud of it!" He cast his green gaze over the villagers: almost every single one was there, from the babes in arms and children to the elderly and infirm.

"I forbid you to leave!" Stoick roared.

"You cannot!" Hiccup told him. "You know, I was willing to forgive you. I had already forgiven Astrid because she helped and supported me when I was thrown out of the Tribe and in utter despair. She stayed with me when I was so ill. She asked me to come home because she could see that I really wanted to give you a chance-and she brought me to Gothi when I was ill. But in recompense, you imprisoned me and threatened me and beat me and humiliated me. You took away everything I cared for and tried to crush me and force me to become you. But I am not you, Dad. I will never be you."

"YOU ARE MY SON!" Stoick roared.

"You abused and disinherited me," Hiccup said levelly. "The village tormented me-and no one but Astrid has apologised!"

"We brought you gifts…" Elva Guthlarson shouted.

"Pies…"

"Tunics…"

"Bread…"

"Really? When I was unconscious. Did one of you come to see me when I had woken and thank me? Or say you were sorry you had basically made my life an utter Hel before? Or did you assume that it was all okay because you had given my Dad a gift?"

"I made you my Heir!"

"You made Snotlout your Heir so your judgement must be pretty suspect!" Hiccup called down, seeing his father's face turn scarlet with rage. He felt himself stiffen with fear. "I decline. I don't want it. You ignored everything I requested as a sign that you were willing to change. No signs of trying to live with dragons. No acknowledgement that you are sorry for the way you treated me. No remorse. And-most crucially-no forgiveness for Astrid, who I had already forgiven. You were merciless and vicious in your sentence for her and I don't want that. I never wanted to be cruel-but you were. You are."

"You shame me!"

"I'm done," Hiccup announced. "I'm not coming back. I promised if you tried to stop me going, I would leave and never return-well, here it is. Goodbye, Stoick." The Chief gaped: Hiccup had always called him Dad, even when he had been cast out and disinherited. But no more. He rose on Toothless. "Don't come after us. I won't let myself be hurt again by you. Ever." And he soared away-before he circled round and accelerated round down towards the village. The shriek of the Night Fury's wings filled the air and the villagers suddenly realised they were facing an attack run. There were shouts and screams and people scattering and running for cover. Hiccup lay low over the dragon's neck.

"Show them what you can do. bud," he murmured and pointed. The dragon opened his mouth, purple plasma filled his maw and then he fired.

There was huge explosion as the Chief's house was blown apart, the thunder of the explosion rolling around the village. There were gasps and shouts as Hiccup wheeled around again and the Jorgensen house was blasted apart. Toothless turned on a wingtip and a final shot smashed the Thorsten house to matchwood. Then they soared up and vanished into the gloom over the forest. A roar sounded from the Night Fury and all the dragons rose, cries echoing across the village and leaving the villagers alone. Only Meatlug remained, giving a little croon but sitting loyally by her Rider's side. Fishlegs watched them with sorrowful eyes as he saw his friends vanish and the dragons abandon them.

And then they were gone, leaving the burning houses and the shocked silence of the villagers.

oOo

In the cove, they landed without a word, the riderless dragons settling around the depression as Toothless, Stormfly and the other training dragons stayed close to the boy who had trained them. Hiccup slid from the saddle and limped round to embrace Toothless once more. Astrid jumped down but moved cautiously around him, like he was a Monstrous Nightmare about to burst in flame. She stopped a few feet shy and watched him.

"Are…are you okay?" she asked him carefully. He paused and slowly raised his head, his face very pale between the bruises and very carefully rotated to look at her, his hand still resting on Toothless for support.

"No," he said in a very quiet, very expressionless tone. "No-and I'm not sure I ever will be again, to be honest. I never really wanted to leave Berk, Astrid. All I wanted was the people of Berk to be honest and treat me properly-and you too. But instead…my father treats me like some…trophy to be exhibited to the other Chiefs. To show how great he is with such a son. He locks me up and stops me being…me. And I felt…that if I knew that life without Toothless would be worse than death anyway. I-I really r-really w-wanted to-to d-die…"

Then she moved forward and he didn't hesitate to wrap his arms around her, pressing his body close to her, feeling her strong arms close around him protectively. He buried his head in her shoulder and she felt the wetness of his tears on her skin. Tenderly she stroked his head and rested her cheek against his. "Oh, Hiccup," she whispered.

"And the only…only thing that stopped me was T-toothless…because I-I knew he wouldn't understand," he whimpered. "I-I'm s-so sorry, Astrid…" She tightened her grasp on him.

"I wasn't leaving you…ever-remember? I promised, Hiccup," she reminded him softly. "You-you're my best friend." She paused. "Actually-you're my only friend, now. And I know…I can't be your best friend 'cause the post is already taken…" He stiffened. "But…maybe second best friend…?" He slowly raised his head and stared at her.

"Astrid…" he began but she pulled away and stared at him, her head bowed.

"I-I know you can't trust me, Hiccup but I swear, I promise I will never hurt you again and I hope one day…you will believe me. Will trust me…" Her voice was shaking.

"Astrid…" he said quietly. "I already do." She looked up, hope flaring in her azure gaze. "You came back for me. You literally saved my life. You…were magnificent. You faced down my Dad while I…"

"…was shocked and traumatised and probably concussed and starved and still fighting an infection…" she said and he gave a slight smile.

"…and really really pathetic…but not any more," he said quietly. He swallowed. "I-I meant it, Astrid. I can't go back now. There are still people I care for-Gobber, Gothi and Fishlegs mainly-but there are far more I couldn't care less for…chief among them being my father, uncle and cousin and the twins. If you want to come back and see your family…fine…but I can't. And I think I showed them today what I will do if I see any of them again."

She stared at him and wrapped her arms around her body. She was scared to ask the next question.

"Why just their homes? Why not the jail?"

He sighed and turned back to rub Toothless again. "Not a killer, remember?" he said softly. "The only thing I have ever killed was the Red Death-and I did that with Toothless. I never harmed a dragon during Dragon training. And I never killed a human. Believe me-I did consider it as I saw my childhood home explode…but killing two men in a jail, who had no clue what happened, in cold blood…" He sighed again. "That's not who I am, Astrid. And this has been all about who I am. He would do that-not me." And he looked ashamed. She gently caught his hand.

"I would have killed Snotlout if you hadn't stopped me," she admitted. "I can't understand how you can let them live?"

"I have enough nightmares," he admitted wearily. "I don't want them haunting me as well!" Then he paused. "But I have shamed and dishonoured Stoick which, I suppose, is a start." She frowned. "He has the Chiefs of other Tribes coming to see his amazing Dragon Conquering son and the peace between Vikings and Dragons. But instead, his son has fled, his Heir is in jail for attempted murder, his home is in splinters and his island is in utter disarray. And I did that. His useless runt of a son!" She suddenly smirked.

"Um…your innate ability to cause chaos…while not directly harming anyone who was innocent," she realised.

"Gobber, Gothi, Fishlegs, small children, your Dad…none of them deserve direct vengeance, though they will be harmed by what I have done." He sighed. "But honestly, all I want is to leave…explore…learn about our world, about dragons…about myself. And if you would come with me…" His green eyes inspected her shocked face, the plea bright in his gaze.

She paused-but only for a second. "Of course," she told him with a smile. "But this time-you need to pack some sensible equipment!" He gave an embarrassed rub to the back of his neck.

"Yeah…kinda failed there," he admitted with a slight smile. "At least I have you to organise me. But…are you sure about this?" She shrugged.

"Honestly? No. But I guess we both ran out of welcome in Berk," she said. She loaded her things and Hiccup's and split them between the two dragons. He wearily swung into the saddle, hissing slightly as he snapped his leg into the tail control. She gratefully leapt into the saddle on Stormfly. "So where are we taking all these dragons?" He paused.

"Dragon Island…to start with," he told her quietly. "This leg needs a rest…but then…" He kicked Toothless into the air and they arrowed into the air, turning without a backwards glance at accelerating away from Berk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I had a number of requests for immediate and bloody vengeance on Berk. And, to be honest, that would definitely be the Viking thing to do (And I would probably feel like it myself.)… But in this Universe, Hiccup is the one who wouldn't kill unless there is no other option-and he has one. He's definitely not a proper Viking (which may have been mentioned before.) Maybe I will do a dark and very vengeful Hiccup fic but others seem to be doing them very nicely to be honest. There will still be more vengeance against Berk-but certainly not in cold blood.


	38. Chapter Thirty Eight

**Thirty Eight.**

Dragon Island seemed much more homely once they returned and Hiccup was desperate to rest in his little nest. Astrid had insisted on feeding him some very badly cooked fish stew and dry bread before he was allowed to rest and he had given up resisting her determination: he knew she wouldn't hurt him but he also knew she wouldn't take no for an answer either. She had insisted on seeing his leg and gently rubbing in the ointments, her hands surprisingly gentle. She had ensured that there was a good fire in the chamber they slept in and Hiccup had felt Toothless curl around his skinny and battered shape.

"Will you be alright?" Astrid asked him gently, tucking the fur around him. He stared up at her: after a return home, Astrid seemed safe. His green eyes blinked and he managed a very small smile.

"No, I'm good," he said sleepily. "A-Astrid…thanks for rescuing me…" She sat back.

"I was really worried," she admitted quietly. "Especially after Fishlegs told me you were desperate." He closed his eyes.

"If I couldn't be with Toothless, I didn't want to live," he admitted, "because Dad would never let me go. I would be his prisoner until he decided I failed him…" He curled up tighter. "I-I'm sorry. I put you in danger…" She sighed and poked the fire.

"Get some sleep, Hiccup," she said quietly. "You're safe here." He gave a small smile and extended his arm to rest his hand against the warm black scales of the Night Fury.

"Don't leave me," he pleaded quietly and she smiled.

"I'm not going anywhere," she told him softly as he drifted off the sleep. "I've got nowhere else to go," she added desolately.

The scream woke her in the middle of the night, the desperate howl of Hiccup echoing through the gloomy chamber. She started up, her hand automatically reaching for her axe but her eyes adjusted to the reddish light of the dying fire and saw the boy bolt upright, his bruised face twisted in terror and arms waving to ward off the unseen shade of his father, closing in to take something even more from the trapped boy. He was pressed back against Toothless, who was looking at him with sad, green eyes and rumbling and warbling gently to try to reassure him. Tears were streaming down Hiccup's face from his unseeing green eyes and he was trembling from head to toe.

Astrid rose slowly, her eyes meeting those of the Night Fury. She didn't want to alarm or upset Toothless, who was extremely protective of his rider but the dragon gave a gentle croon that invited her close and she slowly crawled to his side.

"Hiccup?" she asked hoarsely.

"No, no, no, no, no…" he whimpered. "I won't. I WON'T!" He shook his head.

"It's okay-you're safe now," she tried. He waved his arms frantically, trying to ward her away.

"I-I c-can't…" he begged. "Dad-p-please…I can't live without Toothless…I c-can't be the Heir you w-want…I can't be a puppet…I have to fly…"

"Hiccup-you're safe…" Astrid called, increasingly worried.

"Please-kill me!" he sobbed. "Just k-kill me-if I can't fly, I don't wanna live…"

So she crawled forward and wrapped her arms around him. He stiffened for a long moment, then clung to her like a limpet. His head buried in her neck, his arms were vice-like round her body and he just sobbed. Quietly, she wrapped her arms around him and as he snuggled against her…and then she realised that he probably hadn't been hugged, properly hugged for years. His father had probably not hugged him since he was a small boy and his mother had died when he was a baby. Gobber wasn't the hugging type and there was no one else. So she hugged him fiercely until he relaxed and she was able to lay him down on his furs, wrap them tightly around him and relax. She looked up at Toothless.

"Look after him," she sighed then crawled back to her own furs and curled against Stormfly. But her eyes drifted over to the little curled shape and she felt herself begin to worry. Hiccup had endured everything the village had thrown at him for years and had never broken-but what Stoick had done in the single day he had imprisoned the boy had been bad enough to make him want to die. And she had no idea how to deal with it. Astrid was a warrior and all her training had been focussed on that goal: become the best warrior and Shield Maiden on Berk, to regain honour in Dragon Training and Battle for her family. But she had rudimentary skills in medicine-mainly wounds expected for battle-and almost the opposite of the ability to cook.

She lay down closer to her dragon and forced herself to close her eyes. Whatever she needed to do to protect and heal Hiccup, she would do. No matter how long it took…or what it cost Astrid.

oOo

The next few days were a blur as Hiccup struggled with his leg and with the after-effects of his imprisonment. He was at times withdrawn, fearful and angry-though never at Astrid, merely at the world and at Berk and his father. He ate little and had to be coaxed hard for almost every bite and every attempt at sleep was torn by horrific nightmares, all ending the same: Hiccup begging to be allowed to die.

Astrid fell into a dull pattern as she tried to care for him: waking early, making breakfast and heating water to wash, helping Hiccup treat his leg and take the powders Gothi had given him, going out training, hunting for food with Stormfly or Toothless (the dragons took turns to help her), making a tasteless but hearty stew or roasting meat badly for the main meal, training more or gathering wood or other supplies and then settling in for the evening. It was exhausting but busy yet it kept her away from Hiccup for long periods-not because she wanted to but because someone had to do all the basic things that needed doing to keep them alive and help him heal. But it was the evening when Hiccup, quiet and introspective, spoke to her.

"You could have just left me," he said quietly. Her haze flicked up to meet his and sighed.

"They had Stormfly," she reminded him.

"It would have been a lot easier just to rescue her and leave me," he said dully. Her fist clenched.

"But that was never an option," she told him tightly. "I promised I would come back for you. And I knew…how scared you were of coming back." She paused and took a deep breath. "I was wrong, Hiccup. I thought you would be better off back on Berk. I believed that your Dad had accepted you and would treat you fairly. I-I didn't want you to be exiled from home because of me. I-I…just wanted you to get better and everything you deserved." Hiccup have a small, bitter laugh.

"I got everything my father felt I deserved," he exclaimed. "A leg suited to my clumsiness, being locked up for my own protection, stopped working in case I embarrass anyone. A beating for speaking my mind…being shorn like a slave…treated like a possession…" He hugged his knees to his chest and buried his chin in his knees. "I-I was so helpless, Astrid. So utterly…Useless…" He screwed his eyes closed. She sighed.

"No one could have resisted Stoick the Vast-let alone a scrawny, sick, one-legged boy," she reassured him. "You couldn't have gotten out…" He looked up and his eyes were shining.

"But I couldn't do anything!" he burst out desperately. "I couldn't even climb down the stairs from my room, let alone get out the roof hatch! He wouldn't even _listen_ to me, let alone take anything I said into account!"

"Hiccup-you're not on Berk any more," she said determinedly. "You don't have to worry about what you can't do any more. Think about what you _can_ do-the things that make you Hiccup. The things you are good at!"

He buried his face in his arms and shook his head, breathing raggedly. With a sigh, she crawled to his side and wrapped an arm around him. "Hiccup-I know you can't see it now-but you are the most amazing person. Who else would have shot down a Night Fury, trained a Night Fury, built an artificial tail, fought a giant dragon and saved the whole of Berk? Hiccup-you are amazing. You just need to remember that!" He leaned against her and swiped the tears from his face.

"I just feel hopeless," he sighed.

"Hiccup…you are safe now," she tried to reassure him.

"You were so awesome," he murmured. "You were fearless."

"You know, you were far braver when you faced the Red Death," she told him. "I was scared-scared that we would all be destroyed, scared that you would die…and I was so much more scared when you were so sick…" He looked up and sighed. "Look-all I can do is fight, Hiccup. I can't do what you can."

"All I can do is work in the forge…and draw a little," he murmured quietly.

"Hiccup-I've seen your drawings," she murmured softly. "They are amazing! And the drawings of Toothless's tail…are incredible." He flicked his shamed gaze up at her and she realised then how horribly his confidence had been crushed by his experiences in Berk. He shrugged.

"I'm still the worst Viking…" he began and she sighed.

"Hiccup-why do you think you're the worst Viking?" she asked him.

"I can't fight, I am weak, I can't walk properly, I have been driven out by my tribe and I am just a disappointment to my father," he murmured wearily.

"You're a dragon rider and trainer, you make dragon saddles and tails, you can smith and draw, you speak several languages, you read and write well, " she said. "All I can do is fight. So let me make you a deal, Hiccup. I will help you recover and learn to walk and run again. I will train you and make you stronger and faster. I will take you through weapons training-because you were never given any weapons training, were you?" He gave a shamed shake of the head. "And in return, you will help me be a better rider and will help my reading and writing." He looked up.

"That's hardly any payment for everything you are doing for me," he said quietly. She stared at him in shock.

"Hiccup-you left home for me!" she told him in astonishment. "You refused the honours your tribe offered because I wasn't pardoned. I know I treated you horribly. I don't know why you gave everything up for me…" She looked away. "I am utterly dishonoured and shamed. I can never go home or see my family again. All I am offering you is some simple weapons training…that's hardly worth everything you've done." He blinked and looked up into her face and wrapped an arm around her.

"Astrid-I would have died in Berk if you hadn't rescued me," he told her gently. He took a deep breath. "Face it-we both owe each other. And we both need each other." He ghosted the smallest smile and his bruised face warmed slightly. "I'm probably not going to be a bundle of laughs, Astrid-but I am going to try. I don't want to be Useless any more. I don't ever want to feel as hopeless as I felt in my room, feeling that cutting my wrists open was the only option I had left." She wrapped her arms around him then and he returned the hug.

"Oh, Hiccup," she sighed. "If you ever feel despair or hopeless, just remember-I will _always_ come for you." He gave a small smile.

"Thanks, Astrid."

oOo

His training started the next day when Astrid woke him when she got up. She had been allowing him to lie in the previous four days since they escaped from Berk but now she made him get up, wash and help her with breakfast. He was limping and stiff but once they had finished breakfast, she got him up and they put an extra layer on, then she started walking from the cavern. He stared after her and looked at Toothless but she barked "No!" He started.

"Wh-what?"

"Toothless won't be helping you, Hiccup," she said sternly. "You have to walk for yourself." He paled, the words unconsciously echoing what his father had said. But this time, the words had no contempt-only determination to encourage him to have the courage to extend himself. She paused at the entrance of the cavern and held her hands out, waiting for him. Gritting his teeth, he focussed on each step. Putting the normal leg down was easy, almost unconscious but it was different for his missing leg. The unfamiliar weight of the metal leg required conscious effort to lift and swing forward, then plant firmly, feeling the unfamiliarity of not knowing if his 'foot' was flat and secure on the ground. His stump stabbed red hot jolts of pain up his left leg as his weight rotated forward and he straightened his left leg. He felt himself wince as his weight now bore down through the stump and prosthetic and he felt his left hand move from his side because he felt unstable, unsteady. But he had pushed off his right foot and was still moving, his good leg swinging forward to reassuringly meet the floor again. It was almost with relief that he could lift his metal leg from the floor and swing it forward again, easing the pressure and feeling a heap more stable.

He frowned as his prosthetic landed again and he found he was looking carefully where his metal foot landed, because he got no feeling at all from the missing foot. He frowned a little as he felt his weight through the stump again but he was concentrating now, feeling how the pressure varied in his knee and on his incredibly sensitive stump as he placed the metal foot on the floor. His normal step was quick, turning his gait into an unbalanced limp and he consciously slowed the swing of his right leg, trying to even his balance. He looked up-and found himself standing right in front of Astrid, who was smiling gently at his face. He looked up defensively.

"What?" he asked. She grinned.

"You figured it out," she smiled. He looked embarrassed.

"Kinda," he murmured. "I think it's gonna take some practice." She nodded, then offered her hand.

"D'you need a hand now?" she asked. He looked up into her eyes and realised what she had done. He smiled.

"Actually, I'm good," he admitted. "It's gonna take a while but I won't get any better if I just lean on Toothless or you, will I?" She shook her head with a smile.

"Now, lets go and see what we can do to make you a little stronger," she said with a grin. "Race you to the entrance!" he stared after her.

"Hey-not fair!" he shouted and limped after her.

Over the next few days, he realised just what he had gotten into. Astrid knew what he needed and was absolutely determined to give him the skills so that he would never feel so vulnerable again. So she began strengthening him, making him walk and then jog, carry weights and fly. Astrid was clever enough to realise that flying would tone his muscles and especially his core and strengthen him. He found that she forced him to fly a lot more than even he would have planned-and at the same time, he was able to train her to fly and understand her dragon better. But afterwards, she made him help her carry wood and water up to their lodging and chop trees down for wood.

She had her axe only with her so she began to train him in the axe, realising that it probably wasn't his best weapon. He was left-handed-which posed a conundrum for her, though she figured out how to get him to hold and swing the weapon accurately. They practiced swordplay with sticks, concentrating on form and accuracy and she rapidly found that Hiccup had a quick and accurate eye and a real aptitude for the sword. His strokes were very fast and firm and he swiftly learned the trick to disarming her. As his balance improved, his speed improved and she quickly found he was challenging her hard. The day he beat her was a chastening experience and she was glad no one from the village was there to watch her lose to Hiccup…

And then she pulled herself up sharply. That was monstrously unfair to her friend that she was still thinking of him in such a derogatory way. She knew how talented he was in so many ways and she should be proud that her student had progressed so rapidly and that Hiccup-who still felt vulnerable and depressed-could count a victory in a combat against _her_ as one of his achievements. She forced herself to smile at him and bow. He looked shocked and slightly worried.

"Er…Astrid…are you okay? You're smiling," he asked her warily. She dropped her stick and grinned.

"Actually, Hiccup, I'm smiling because I have just been beaten by my student!" she grinned. He took a step back, wondering if she was going to hit him.

"Erm…and you're okay with that?" he asked quietly. She sighed.

"Yes, Hiccup, I am!" she said more sharply than she intended. "Look, I am very proud that you have beaten me. I am pleased that you are a winner-and that you have improved so much."

"Your..er…face doesn't say you're happy," Hiccup told her carefully. "And…erm…you're not always very happy when you're not winning." She stared at him…then backed away. She took a deep breath.

"Hiccup-I promised I wouldn't hurt you," she said quietly. "I'm sorry you can't believe me. I-I…" Then she turned and ran and he sighed, dropping his stick. He was kicking himself for the words because he had seen the hurt in her eyes. He stared after her and groaned. There was no way he could run after her, let alone catch her…but he tried anyway, wincing at the sudden and agonising pressure on his stump as he bounded after her. Astrid was quick and strong and he was clumsy and much slower-even when he had both legs. He scrambled after her, tripping over a loose rock and landing flat on his face, scraping his chin and hands. He scrabbled up, wincing and pressed on, hitting the base of the slope and accelerating a little after her. She had dashed into the forest and he scrambled after her, tripping over several roots, scraping his hand and arm on tree trunks and getting his cheek slashed by a bramble.

"ASTRID!" he shouted as he paused, breathing hard. It was growing cold and his breath was starting to coalesce in clouds. "ASTRID!" He peered into the forest and could hear sounds ahead-so he scrambled on, tripping up again and slashing his good knee open. He winced and grabbed the injury-but he could hear the sounds of sobbing so he levered himself to his feet and limped forward. It was incredibly difficult to limp on both legs but he kind of managed it. He stumbled again and cried out as he tripped over another bramble and ended scratched all over his face and hands. He whimpered and crawled out of the patch, unable to get to his feet. He looked up-to see Astrid cornered by a huge titanwing Monstrous Nightmare.

"Keep still," he murmured. She looked across at him with tear-blurred eyes and gave a little nod. It had been easy, with their dragons and their comfortable little world around the cavern, to forget they were living on an island with lots of wild dragons. They had both been idiots, running off without any weapons and no caution at all. And now a furious looking dragon was eyeing Astrid up very menacingly. Slowly, he levered himself up to his feet, wincing as he jarred his painful stump. She got a look at him and gaped at the injuries he had managed to accrue in the few short minutes they had been apart. Her face twisted in a look of guilt. Fearlessly, he walked slowly towards the dragon, his left hand out and eyes calm and peaceful.

"There you go, fella," he said quietly. "You don't wanna cause any trouble, do you? We all just wanna live in peace here, Vikings and dragons…friends together. We're sorry we startled you, big guy. If you just let us go, we'll leave you alone…what d'you say, hmm?" And then he stopped, his hand mere inches from the dragon's snout. The huge beast could swallow Hiccup in one huge mouthful but the boy didn't hesitate, quietly closing his eyes and turning away, giving the dragon his trust.

There was a long moment where Astrid scarcely dared to breathe and quietly looked down, trying to calm her breathing. Then she saw a movement and the dragon firmly pressed his snout against Hiccup's bloody hand. The boy glanced up with a small smile, giving a gentle rub against the skinned palm. Hiccup winced slightly but maintained his smile.

"It's okay, fella-we'll go now. But friends, right?" The dragon rubbed and purred and then lifted his head, cast Astrid a look, huffed and crashed away. Hiccup sagged and watched him go then leaned forward and rested his skinned hands on his aching knees.

"Sorry, Astrid," he murmured and then felt hands on his shoulders.

"No, I'm sorry," she said in a tearful voice. "I-I was so stupid, running away. I really was proud for you and I-I just forgot…that you are trying very hard…" She sighed. "And then you…came and found me, even though…" She stared at him carefully. "What the Hel happened to you?" she asked more firmly. He sighed and wearily straightened up a bit.

"I fell over. A lot. Erm…sorry."

"But you just saved my life," she told him gently. "You're the person who couldn't do anything and who was completely Useless." he stared at her. "Hiccup-you ran after me down a rocky slope and through a forest when you could barely walk across a room a week ago. You have improved amazingly and despite everything, you still found me and trained a huge Monstrous Nightmare to save me!"

"Um, okay?" he managed, slowly turning to look at her. She released him and peered at his wounds.

"Those look nasty," she said worriedly. He gave her a lopsided grin, a little flurry of confidence trickling through his cold shape.

"I've had worse," he admitted and allowed her to help him back towards the caves. "Astrid-we are gonna need to leave here and visit another village soon. We need more supplies and more weapons. We definitely need swords, bows and knives." He paused and ran his hand through his shorn hair. "And we need to think of a disguise. Even without my Dad sending messages all over for me to be taken and sent back to Berk-which is a really possibility, by the way-the way I look at the moment, I may be mistaken for an escaped thrall." She smiled.

"I can arrange that," she said, helping him through the dense brambles and undergrowth. "Any idea where?"

"How about one of the Peaceable Isles?" he suggested. "Most of the other Tribes have Treaties with the Hooligans. I can maybe get some work in their forge and earn enough to get the weapons." She sighed.

"And me?" she asked. He smiled.

"I can't imagine the great Astrid Hofferson being beaten by anything!"

"Except a scrawny one-legged dragon rider," she grumbled as they hit the slope. "Okay-we'll get you patched up and head out tomorrow. I'll check what we have and we can make a list of what we need." He sighed and stared up to the gap in the side of the mountain.

"I suppose I had to go back to civilisation some time," he murmured. "I just hope Dad hasn't gotten there before us."

oOo

"Have the messages gone out?" Stoick glared from his chair by the flickering fire in Hoark's house. His own had been annihilated and Hoark had been the first of many to offer to take in the Chief until his home could be rebuilt. The entire village had been shocked at Hiccup's parting gift and the calls to Outcast the young man had been almost deafening-but Stoick had refused. He had other plans for his errant and recalcitrant son. Hoark nodded to his Chief, his eyes hard.

"To all islands in the Archipelago, Chief," he reported.

"And the message?"

"Exactly as you said. All other Tribes are to look out for your son, Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the Third, who has been ensorcelled by the traitor Astrid Hofferson. He is to be captured and brought home for his own protection. And she is to be killed on sight."


	39. Chapter Thirty Nine

**Thirty Nine.**

Hiccup was nervous as he limped into the small Viking village on the remote Peaceable island of Snori. The dragons had been left safely outside the village because, to his knowledge, Berk was the only island to officially make peace with the dragons. Everywhere had benefited from the defeat of the Red Death but only Berk knew the whole truth-and had the skills and knowledge to befriend the dragons…for now. Astrid was walking at his side, her cloak wound around her against the damp cold. It was sleeting and the mist was hanging over the small thatched houses. Hiccup was wrapped in two tunics (to apparently bulk him up) and had a cap and cloak and hood to disguise his shorn auburn hair. There wasn't much he could do about his lack of inches or his sparkling forest green eyes. At least his bruises had largely faded in the almost two weeks since they had escaped Berk.

The place was a typical Viking settlement-muddy streets, wooden shops mixed in with homes, a tavern and a few freestanding stalls selling their wares. Hiccup interestedly peered at the wares: if they were to survive, they may need to find things to barter and it would be helpful to see what other places had on offer. But his main interest was the forge and he followed the smell of hot iron and burning wood until he reached his goal. It didn't take long for him to engage the local smith in conversation and his face animated as he swapped tips on working metal with the relatively young smith who was on duty.

Hiccup's ears pricked up at the news that the old smith had recently retired due to ill death and a persistent and very painful knuckle disease that had finally beaten him. The man in the forge was a local farmer who was able to offer a couple of days a week-but the village was seeking someone else to work a couple more days each week and Hiccup promptly offered his services. The man frowned and looked cynical-until Hiccup explained he had been Gobber the Belch's apprentice. Gobber was renowned across the entire Archipelago as one of the finest smiths-despite his lack of limbs-and Hiccup demonstrated his prowess by rapidly and accurately mending an axe in front of the sceptical young smith. The man had watched in shock, seeing in the scrawny teen skill that already surpassed his own. He promptly offered Hiccup the job.

When Astrid had rejoined him, she had been part impressed and part surprised that he had taken the job until he explained that he really wanted to keep up his smithing and a regular income would help them prepare to leave-and enable Hiccup to get the any weapons they needed and upgrade Toothless's tail and saddle. She had admitted she had managed to get a post in the town armoury-very small and badly organised but easy for her to reorganise and upgrade so there were a few weapons that were usable in case of an attack.

Hiccup had stayed for much of the afternoon and managed to make enough for some bread, fruit and soap which they had gratefully taken back to their 'shelter' outside town-where they rejoined the dragons and flew back to Dragon Island. Hiccup had paced back and forth in their chamber, considering his options and realising that they needed to work until they had all the weapons, clothes, armour and provisions they needed for a long journey. Astrid was still worried about his words-that Stoick would be looking for them-and was more nervous about spending prolonged time in the little village but she couldn't fault his reasoning. And then he had sat down with her and had set to improving her reading and writing.

Traditionally, all the children of Berk were taught their runes but though Astrid could read, she didn't really practice and her vocabulary was limited. Hiccup wrote swiftly and easily, read anything and everything and spoke Norse and a couple of other languages that he had learned when he was very small from his grandfather. Hiccup was immeasurably patient as he took her through one of the books he had stuffed among his pathetic basket of provisions he had gathered when he had originally planned to leave Berk. Astrid wrestled hard with the task-she didn't have an especially abstract mind-but by the end of the lesson, her speed and vocabulary was improved.

He stared across the little chamber and sat with his back to Toothless, his fur wrapped around him. Astrid sat at his side, her dragon curled up opposite and sighed. He was having a quiet phase and she didn't know what to say. Or if she should say anything. She sighed and his green eyes flicked up to inspect her with concern.

"Are you alright?" he asked her softly. She blinked.

"Worried about you," she admitted. He shrugged.

"I'll be fine," he said quietly. "Toothless will look after me."

"And me," she reminded him. He ghosted a smile and tightened his arms around his knees.

"I'm trying to remember what it feels like to walk on two legs," he said quietly, his brow furrowing slightly. "The feel of stretching my toes, of bouncing up and down, of running and jumping, of just moving my ankle side to side. But it's fading-even after this short a time. I sometimes feel my missing foot and missing ankle and there is pain, only pain. I have to concentrate hard every step I take because I can't feel where my left 'foot' is. And it drives me crazy that I have to expend so much energy on something that was natural and unconscious." He frowned.

"It's okay-you'll learn," she said with confidence. His troubled gaze flicked up to look at her.

"How do you know?" he asked her. She huffed slightly.

"My Dad was injured and partly lost the use of his legs," she reminded him. "He was so sick for so long. But he always told me practice, practice, practice. And that's what he did. He practiced and he learned. He strengthened his legs. He improved his balance. He relearned to walk. And I watched him do it. That's why I want to help you."

He gave a small smile. "Who am I?" he asked softly. "I mean…I was born the only child of Stoick the Vast and destined to be the next Chief of Berk…until I was disowned wrongly. And not my father, not my mentor, not my kin stood up for me at all. And then I was no one, the runt, the fishbone, the Useless disappointment that everyone hated. There were days when I literally wanted to die. Until I met Toothless…and then I became his Rider and friend. My Dad completely disowned me and cast me out when he found out but when I defeated the Red Death, I was forgiven…sort of. He wanted me back as his Heir, now I was something to be proud of. He named me the Pride of Berk. But I don't feel proud."

"Hiccup…"

"You know, I am supposed to be the Heir to Berk, the Pride of Berk…" Hiccup told her with a crooked smile. "But my father wants an heir he can treat like a performing animal. His pride was at the son he could be proud of-not the son he had. He removed everything that made me the son who became the Pride of Berk. He didn't love me…he was ashamed of me for so many years. And he made me ashamed of being me as well. But as Berk's Heir was everything I was raised to be, what does that make me? Am I anything now I ran away?" Astrid scooched up to sit at his side and leaned against him.

"You are still Hiccup," she reminded him. He groaned.

"That makes me feel infinitely better," he sighed. "Wow. My identity equates with the runt of the litter."

"And you are the son of Stoick the Vast and Heir to Berk…whether you wanted it or not," she reminded him.

"Way to make me feel good," he groaned.

"And the Rider of Toothless and the premier dragon trainer in history…ever!" she reminded him firmly.

"I think he trained me!" Hiccup replied gloomily.

"Skilled smith and inventor…" She knew she was pushing it.

"Those inventions that didn't blow up half the village…"

"Dragon saddle builder!"

"Yeah…I…"

"HICCUP!" she said sternly. "You are brilliant. You trained Toothless, saved Berk, saved me, taught us to ride dragons and…you changed everything. It's not your fault that Stoick can't admit he was wrong about you. Everything has been about him-not about you or about what Berk wants or needs."

"He's my Dad," Hiccup said despondently. "The best Chief in Berk's history. How could I compete with him? How could I ever hope to beat him? Maybe I should just go and hand myself in. At least you and Toothless would be safe?" Astrid shook her head.

"I doubt it," she sighed. "He would fear we would come and take you away once more. He wouldn't ever let us go. He just wouldn't tell you when he killed us." She stared at him. "And anyway, going back would kill you. You barely lasted a couple of days this time." He swallowed, his slender, pale neck moving in anxiety and his pale face tightening. He closed his eyes for a long moment, fighting the sudden surge of despair that the memory raised.

"I think I know that," he sighed. She rested against him and he leaned back, feeling comforted by her closeness. "But what else can I do?"

"Stay away," she advised him. "Be yourself. Heal. Explore. Become Hiccup the Dragon Rider."

"Whoever he is," Hiccup added glumly. Astrid paused.

"By the way…why Hamish?" she asked, thinking back to the name he had given on Snori. Hiccup sighed.

"I couldn't use Hiccup because my father may well already have got word to the village," he told her quietly. "And I was thinking back to my ancestors. Hamishes One and Two, two previous Hiccup Horrendous Haddocks, Stoick, Grimbeard, Madeye the wild…not actually a great bunch of names. Hamish was the best option."

"And one of them was a Hiccup," she added, nudging him and he managed a small smile. He smirked and nudged her back.

"Looks like I chose the right name then," he murmured.

oOo

The next few weeks passed quickly. The infection in his stump gradually receded and he doggedly worked through Astrid's relentless programme of exercises, runs and weapons training. They rode for hours each day, practicing manoeuvres and tricks. Astrid was strong and agile but Hiccup was determined and had no fear at all in the air-and he had total trust in Toothless. He thought nothing about throwing himself from the saddle and diving alongside Toothless-before clamping himself back into the saddle. They flipped and swooped and Astrid was left breathless at their aerobatic ability. She was fearless but even she wouldn't attempt what he did. But they always had fun.

Evenings were different. Astrid tended to polish her axe and wash and tidy. Hiccup was actually a better cook than she was and he assumed the role in their partnership. But once they had finished, Hiccup tended to draw and redesign Toothless's tail. He also let his imagination roam, no longer constrained by the disapproval of his father and his tribe and he came up with a rash of inventions, from fire control measures, various weapons, hot water systems, water driven saws, a retractable flaming sword, a shield with concealed weapons and a suit to allow himself to glide like a dragon. Sometimes he stared at the drawing with a small smile, shook his head at his own crazy imagination and turned over the page but other times, he began to make calculations in swift, scruffy runes and wrote his thoughts on how to make the idea a reality. Astrid would watch him and gape in shock at his brilliance-and his shy modesty when she peered at the plans.

His sleep was still torn by nightmares, horrible visions of being back in Berk, locked up and tormented. Of Toothless being imprisoned and slain. Of Astrid being captured and executed…or worse, raped by Snotlout. In every one of the hideous visions, his father watched over with an approving look on his stern face. And every time Hiccup woke screaming, Astrid wearily scrambled from her furs to calm and soothe him back to sleep until she eventually took to sleeping by his side so that she could just hug him tiredly when he woke in a panic and reassure him that she was there and he was safe. And soothed by her presence, he fell asleep against her until morning.

Twice a week, they flew into Snori at dawn and walked into the village, leaving the dragons peacefully concealed to sleep during the day. Hiccup was careful to wear a cap and a hood to conceal his painfully short hair but he smiled and nodded to the villagers as he arrived and mechanically lit the forge. The young man had already proved himself a friendly and helpful member of the community, never refusing a task and suggesting solutions to problems some of the customers had come to him with. Because they were a Peaceable Tribe, there were few weapons needing servicing compared to Berk, though a few knives and hunting weapons needed to be repaired. The work was mainly building tool and agricultural implements. He hung up his cloak and vest, tied on his leather apron and peered at the work he had piled up. Astrid paused by the forge and grinned at him.

"You okay?" she asked him and he shrugged.

"Busy day," he admitted. "You?" She rolled her eyes.

"They asked me to give the children some basic weapons training," she mused. "Enough to defend themselves." Hiccup gave a pitying look.

"Has anyone told their parents what a slave driver you are?" he asked then danced back as she scowled. He no longer feared her but he still wasn't comfortable being touched-except the hugs that calmed him after his nightmares. She swatted at him playfully, not meaning to make contact and he managed a small smile. "And how violent…'

"I'll get you for that, Haddock," she threatened. "I'll do the cooking tonight!" He rolled his eyes and pretended to gag.

"Oh gods-you're trying to poison me!" he lamented but his smile told her that he was joking…sort of. She turned with a huff and stalked away. Hiccup sighed and turned back to his work, lifting a scythe and frowning. Somehow, the owner had managed to bent it at a right angle and taken a huge chunk out of it. He sighed, grabbed the bellows and began to pump air in, making the flames hotter. Then he rapidly removed the blade from the scythe and put it in the flames, pumping and waiting until the metal glowed orange. He grabbed the tongs and lifted the deformed metal and placed it carefully on the anvil, then lifted his hammer and began to steadily hammer the scythe at least flat. As the metal cooled, he shoved it back into the flames and sighed.

"Hamish!" The boy looked up and felt his cap slip. He grabbed at it and dragged the material forward over his hair as the village Chief, Leifur, walked towards him. The man was broad and tall, his face stern but good humoured and his blue eyes twinkling. Hiccup nodded.

"How can I help?" he asked brightly, keeping half an eye on the scythe. Leifur smiled.

"I had already noticed," he told Hiccup, jerking his head towards the boy's cap and Hiccup sighed.

"Um, it's nothing bad," he murmured. Leifur frowned.

"Your accent tells me you come from the Archipelago but you have really short hair," he said, inspecting Hiccup's face. The boy flushed slightly, his green eyes wary. "You don't act like a slave…or a thrall?" Hiccup shook his head.

"Um…it's more a mark of shame…" he murmured and then started. "Um…not that sort of shame!" he said quickly, suddenly realising what he had implied. "I…um…disobeyed my father and he punished me." He swallowed nervously. Leifur came closer.

"And how did you disobey him?" he asked directly, wondering who he had accepted into his home. "Hamish?" Hiccup sighed.

"He wanted me to stop smithing, to stop going out at all, to separate me from all my friends and stop me being myself…" he said quietly. "He was proud of something I had done-but he wanted to stop me being the person who had done that! I-I couldn't live like that. He punished me-and I ran." He stared at the floor. Leifur looked at the boy.

"You are ashamed, Hamish?" he asked him. Hiccup nodded.

"I love my Dad," he admitted in a small voice, "though I am afraid of him as well. He offered me a great honour as a reward for my actions-but he wanted too much in return for that reward. So much that giving it would kill me." Leifur laid a hand on the thin shoulder and felt the boy shift uncomfortably.

"I'm relieved," he admitted. "I feared I was dealing with a rapist or a murderer. And with that girl by your side…I wondered if you had shamed her and had been forced to run with her…" Hiccup's eyes shot up and he blushed scarlet. He shook his head wildly.

"Oh, no, no, no, no, no…" he gabbled hastily. "Astrid is my friend! My best friend. I would never harm her and never shame her. I have stood up when she was wrongly blamed for something and she has protected me and saved me. Besides…" And his voice turned slightly ashamed. "Besides, if I tried anything with her, she would literally kill me. She's a much better warrior than I am."

"Hmm. I can see she's a fine warrior," he admitted. "You don't come from a Peaceable Isle, do you?" Hiccup shook his head.

"I-I never said we did, sir," he admitted, leaning across and pulling the scythe from the flames with the tongs. Leifur stared at the scrawny boy once more, reading anxiety in the warm forest green eyes. The lad was really a runt, a scrawny boy… And then he looked into the face.

"Maybe…from Berk?"

Hiccup stiffened, his eyes flicking up to meet the man's cool blue glare.

"Maybe," he admitted. "But I am no threat to you or anyone here. I just want to live my own life." Leifur frowned.

"There is a message travelling round the islands that claims the Heir to Berk has been ensorcelled by a witch named Astrid Hofferson who should be killed on sight!" the Chief said. Hiccup backed away and snatched at whatever weapon was to hand-unfortunately, it was the scythe. There was a hideous moment when the hiss of burning flesh sounded loud in the forge and then he screamed and dropped the red-hot metal. Looking around frantically, he thrust his hand into the bucket of water he always kept in the forge in case of fires and knelt by it, keeping his hand submerged and trying to cool the pain.

"She's not a witch," he breathed through gritted teeth. "Thor, she's just a girl who made sure I wasn't locked up, made to wear a peg leg and separated from Toothless…" Leifur stared down at him and knew, should he choose, he could easily overpower the boy and imprison him, ready for transport to Berk. And he also guessed that the girl would rescue him because it was clear they were close and very protective of each other. The Chief hunkered down.

"Whether your name is Hamish or Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the Third, I don't care," he said in a low voice. "As long as you work hard and don't threaten my village, I will welcome you." He peered at the hand: the skin was already turning red where the hot metal had scorched him. "Come on, Hamish-we should get our Healer to see to that." Hiccup looked up with a watery smile.

"Thank you," he murmured.

After his hand was salved and bandaged, he found the Chief asking him to join him for the midday meal and he winked at Astrid as she was beckoned to join them. She slid anxiously by him but Hiccup gave a small smile. Her eyes widened as she saw his bandages.

"Can't I leave you for even five minutes?" she asked him with a sigh. He shrugged.

"Hey, I work in a forge," he reminded her. "A few burns are to be expected." He leaned closer. "The Chief knows-but he doesn't mind. We can stay for the moment." She searched his face and then nodded.

"If you are happy, then I am too," she told him with a smile and checked her plate. It was laden with roast boar, chicken and yak. Hiccup's plate was far less full. Deftly, she slid a couple of slices onto his plate. "And you need this more, mister skinny! I'm never going to train you if you are still half-starved." He took a defiant bite of his bread and chewed with a grin. Leifur watched them and wondered if they realised they acted like a couple, even when both denied it. The lad was very wary and reserved and the girl certainly acted carefully around him but there was no doubting the trust they shared. The Chief was sure they were no threat and he began to hope that maybe they would stay with the people of Snori.

The afternoon was grey and overcast and Hiccup returned to the forge, fixing the scythe and making three new knives as requested. Astrid was still training the children, her knack at making the training a game for them meaning they were incredibly enthusiastic about every task she set them She had two younger brother that she loved and missed and that experience was certainly helping her in managing the lively youngsters.

The horns sounded and at first, Hiccup thought nothing of it. It was only when he saw people gathering and the rising murmur of worried voices that he laid down his hammer and moved to the hatch, peering down to the docks. Four ships were pulling in rather fast, their sails not even trimmed and displaying the colours of the Tribe. Hiccup stared at the sails and felt anxiety clutch his chest and tighten ferociously. The white sails showed the black image of a ferocious dragon, coiled around three lightning bolts. It was a symbol he knew all too well.

_Berserkers._


	40. Chapter Forty

**Forty.**

Hiccup frowned at the Berserker sails and watched the four ships crashed hard into the moorings, the metal reinforcement on the prows designed to bite into a beach or a dock. He could see many armed men aboard now and he shook his head. This didn't make any sense.

Hiccup knew the Berserkers well, for they were allies of the Hooligans and their Chief attended for annual treaty signings. The Berserkers, despite their name and reputation, hadn't been to war for fifty years and were under the rule of the jovial Oswald the Agreeable, the most un-Beserkerlike Chief in their history. He was in fact a cheerily oblivious man who failed to notice his son, Dagur, was a raging psychopath and sadist. Hiccup, of course, knew this all too well because it had fallen to him to welcome and entertain the older boy while the Chiefs signed the Treaty. Dagur was four years older than Hiccup, powerfully built and skilled in weapons and delighted in tormenting his host. Hiccup had been beaten up, molested, almost drowned, marooned on a boat in the harbour, chased into the forest, used for knife target practice…and every time, he had managed to stop the other boy ruining the Treaty. But at the cost of pain, scars and nightmares that his father had never noticed and wouldn't have cared about in any case.

As part of his Chief Training-when he had been the Heir-Hiccup had learned about the complex web of alliances, blood ties, blood feuds and Treaties that tangled all the way across the Archipelago and beyond. He knew that the Berserkers had no ties to the Peaceable Isles-and certainly no reason to be here, on remote Snori. He narrowed his eyes as men began to pour off the ships. No legal reason anyway…

" _BERSERKERS! RUN!"_ The cry rang up from the docks and Hiccup raced back to the forge. He had no idea why the Berserkers were attacking: maybe it was a rogue commander…or perhaps Dagur was out to exert himself and have a little fun behind his father's back. Either way, the poor defenceless people of Snori would pay the price. Hiccup accelerated and slammed the shutters down, finding a sword he had hidden at the back and a shield he had been prototyping-with a concealed grapple and crossbow. He knew he couldn't risk being taken by the Berserkers-Dagur would recognise him and if he did, he may kill him, ransom him or…worse…just hand him over the his father. He dragged his cap up, hauled on his vest and cloak and doused the forge, then slid out the back, his sword in his hand and the shield strapped across his back. Every sense was straining and he pressed his skinny body against the side of the building. He needed to find Astrid.

The shouts were coming nearer and he could hear something familiar: screams. There were battle cries and the zing of sword and axes along with other sounds that indicated they were being used. Hiccup sneaked a quick look round the corner and saw Leifur running towards the attackers, shouting for them to stop. With a sigh, Hiccup raced towards him, slamming him sideways and behind a shop.

"What are you doing?" the Chief hissed, his eyes narrowing suspiciously. Hiccup sighed.

"Keep back!" he said shortly. Leifur there the skinny boy back and his face was definitely hostile.

"Are you in league with them?" he demanded. Hiccup shook his head urgently.

"No. No!" he said vehemently. "But I know them-and they will kill you."

"If I can just talk to them..."

"They won't listen. They _never_ listen," Hiccup told him rapidly. "Get your family and your people and run!"

"But they'll plunder the village..!"

"And you'll still be alive!" Hiccup sighed. "You go out there and they'll kill you and still plunder the village. Get your family and go." He sighed. "I'll try to distract them!" Leifur stared at him in shock.

"You?" he asked cynically. "No offence but you're...well, a runt and you've only got one leg..." Hiccup rolled his eyes.

"You're wasting time!" he told the Chief. "Go!"

"The children..."

"They're with Astrid," Hiccup reassured him. "And she is the best young warrior on Berk. She'll protect them. Now go!" And he saw the Chief beckon to his people and they slank away behind the houses, heading into the forest. Hiccup peered out and saw another villager run at the attackers. It was a man he recognised-Stian, the farmer who shared the blacksmith role with him. And he could see the Berserkers were toying with him. Then one came up behind him and he acted on instinct, running forward and raising his sword to block the cowardly blow from an axe. The clang reverberated through his arm and he found himself thrown back. He kicked out and slashed at the man grabbing him.

And then they started laughing. The Berserkers almost dropped their weapons in mirth at the attack by the scrawny lad, dancing away from him. But Hiccup was quicker and more focussed than he had been and he landed a couple of good hits in the men holding Stian. Suddenly the laughter stopped and he was roughly disarmed, hands pinning his wrists behind his back and a fist slamming into his cheek.

"What have we here?" Hiccup stiffened at the mild voice and ducked his head. He knew the owner too well: Dagur. He and Stian were hauled before the Berserker and Hiccup stole a glimpse of his counterpart: about a foot taller than Hiccup, twice as heavy and ripped, Dagur looked every inch the Viking warrior with his helmet with the high curved horns and the three claw-mark woad tattoos over his left eye, his black leather gear and fierce double-bladed war-axe.

"These two were resisting," a Berserker reported. Dagur walked forward and paused in front of Stian.

"Really? How very un-Peaceable!" he commented and impaled the farmer with one of his men's swords. Hiccup flinched at the squelch of flesh, Stian's shocked final gasp...and the thud as his body hit the ground. Then Dagur turned to him and he felt the man's rough hand grab his bowed face and force him to look up. Forest green eyes met mad, pale green ones and Hiccup sighed.

"Hello, Dagur," he said. The Berserker holding him immediately dealt him a brutal cuff to the head that had him seeing stars but the man was immediately dealt a rough punch himself by Dagur. The Berserker Heir gave a slow smile.

"Hiccup?" he said slowly, his face crinkling with delight. "Brother?" Hiccup blinked a couple of times to clear his vision and nodded.

"Way to ruin my vacation!" he grumbled, casting a glare at the man holding him. The Berserker took the hint and let him go. Dagur frowned.

"What happened to you?" he asked suspiciously, gesturing at the boy. "What happened to your leg?" Hiccup sighed.

"Dragon attack," he said, knowing it was nearly the truth. Dagur frowned, his ginger brows dipping in perplexity.

"You know, your father claimed you stopped the dragon attacks and destroyed a huge dragon," he told the boy more coldly. Hiccup gave a small smile.

"Wha...? Me? C'mon, Dagur-look at me. How-how is that possible?" The Berserker glared for a chilling moment-then clapped Hiccup so hard on the shoulder that he was almost knocked over.

"Ha! Ha! Ha! You bring the funny, Hiccup! No doubt about that! But seriously-why are you here? Your father is looking all over-and he sounds mad!"

"Um, he's been mad since the day I was born...but I'm sure there's no relation," Hiccup told him dryly. "The real question is-what are you doing here, Dagur? I thought Oswald was against unprovoked attacks!" Dagur pouted and folded his arms like a petulant child.

"My father," he began disparagingly, "has lost his taste for blood. I, on the other hand, am STARVING!" Hiccup looked at him closely and nodded because he wasn't sure what else to do. It was almost impossible to predict how Dagur would react and one wrong word could send him into a violent and towering rage.

"So you're proving yourself to him?" he guessed. Dagur gave a snort.

"All he ever does is criticise me!" he scoffed. "Dagur-don't kill that yak! Dagur-don't behead that servant! Dagur-put that axe down! I don't answer to my father ANY MORE!" The last words were a low growl and Hiccup suddenly saw that Dagur had solved his father issues-permanently.

"Dagur-what have you done?" he asked quietly. Dagur gave a grin.

"Let's discuss it!" he said brightly and grabbed the smaller boy's arm. He hauled Hiccup along and the young Hooligan just went along with it, trying to work out what Dagur had planned. Then another Berserker ran up.

"Sir! The villagers have run away!" he reported. "We went after the children as you commanded but our men have been beaten back by a gold-haired demon with an axe!" Hiccup couldn't help smiling at that: he guessed he knew the demon in question well. Dagur caught his expression and spun the smaller boy to face him.

"Do you have something to say, brother?" he challenged sharply. Hiccup nodded.

"Um, yeah," he reported happily. "I'd advise your men to withdraw. Wouldn't be sensible to anger a Viking woman with an axe protecting kids. Not unless you brought half of the Berserker Tribe..." Dagur looked after his childhood 'friend' and scowled. "Dagur-leave them," Hiccup asked quietly. "I am trying to spend some time away from the Tribe proving myself and you are really screwing it up!" The Berserker inspected him closely. Hiccup looked thin and still pale, his cropped hair uneven and clearly something he was ashamed of. He was anxious-but then, Dagur couldn't recall a time when Hiccup wasn't anxious.

"That's not what I heard," he told Hiccup. "I heard you ran with a girl...you dog..." Hiccup flinched. "And Daddy Stoick is mad and wants you brought back and her...killed on sight." Hiccup sighed.

"Not quite how it actually happened," he admitted. "I had some...issues...with my Dad like you did with yours."

"...and now you want my help," Dagur exclaimed, suddenly enthusiastic. "We can head back to Berk, you can challenge your father, my Armada will back you and we form an alliance...me as the High Chief of all Berserkers and you as the new Chief of Berk!"

Hiccup stared at him and forced himself not to groan. Because there was a twisted logic to his words and Dagur's help could potentially be useful in dethroning his father and claiming his birthright. He could walk in and challenge Stoick, claiming Berk. His chosen weapon would be...dragons...and he could easily get Toothless to annihilate his father because the dragon knew how much the man had abused and almost destroyed him. It would be easy...

...but there were two major issues. The first was, of course, that Dagur couldn't be trusted and Hiccup had the nasty suspicion that he would end up handing Berk to Dagur...maybe over his own dead body. The second was simple: he didn't want to kill his father because somewhere in there, he was still hoping the Chief loved him. Had he wanted Stoick dead, Toothless would have obliged him when they left. But he didn't. If he killed his father, there would never be the chance to win his love.

And he hated himself for his weakness, hated the fact that he still loved the man who had treated him so cruelly, so dismissively...but he did. He had only his father-no mother who had been taken when he was a baby, no sisters or brothers, no cousin who didn't treat him like dirt, no uncles or aunts who treated him with any affection. His father was his only real family, the one constant in his life. There was a little corner in his heart that still yearned for the approval of his father but that too was starting to dimly recognised that may never happen. But today…killing Stoick was a step too far.

"Yeah-something like that," he said unenthusiastically.

"So come with me and I'll sort out your girl trouble," Dagur told him cheerily, his hand tightening around Hiccup's shoulder. "Take ten men and take out the girl, Harg! Bring those children-and the head of that axe-wielding bitch! You-Jorgi-find some food and put in the village hall-or some house we haven't burnt yet. Come on, Hiccup. We shall feast as brothers ought!" Hiccup tried to struggle but Dagur's grasp was like a vice. His only option was to play along-for now.

"Can't wait," he murmured unenthusiastically.

oOo

Astrid ducked behind a stand of brambles and motioned the seven children behind her to do the same. They silently dropped to their knees, pressed tight behind her as the heavy steps grew closer. Astrid tightened her grip on her axe, her knuckles white and eyes narrowed as she peered at the approaching Berserkers. The children watched her with huge, scared eyes-but they trusted her.

The men had stopped, staring into the forest. Astrid instinctively reached down and grabbed a small rock, weighing it thoughtfully in her hand before accurately tossing it way to her left. Instantly, the Berserkers all snapped round and jogged off in that direction, while Astrid silently rose and ran away at a crouch, the children behind her. It was only when the Berserkers were out of sight that she slowed down and did a quick head count.

The children of the village had enjoyed her exercises and she had managed to make the extended game of hide and seek into a game-though she had sternly told them there would be serious consequences if they were found. She swiftly led them away from the village, not bothering to wonder why the Berserkers were here but concerned for Hiccup, who was still in the village. A couple of Berserkers had already tried to intercept them and had learned the hard way that no one messed with Astrid Hofferson. She knew there was only one way they could fight the Berserkers off-and it wasn't on her own. So she swiftly and determinedly led the children back to the place where they had hidden the dragons.

Both were awake and alert, their sensitive hearing picking up the shouts and sound of battle. The children cowered as Astrid ran forward and hugged Stormfly, her face lighting happily. "Hiya, girl," she said gently embracing the fierce head. Then she turned to the Night Fury and gently offered him her hand. "Toothless," she murmured gently. The dragon gave a worried croon: he could already smell that his friend wasn't with the girl. The children cowered as Astrid turned to them.

"It's okay," she assured them. They whimpered and cowered some more. One of the girls was crying and the young Hooligan laid down her axe and crouched in front of the child. "What's wrong?" she asked gently.

"It's…it's a d-dragon…" she whispered. Astrid laid a strong, assured hand on hers.

"Yes, it is," she told the girl gently. "Her name is Stormfly and she is my friend. I ride her. The black dragon is my friend, Hiccup's. His name is Toothless." The girl stared as Toothless crept a step closer, his pupils wide and gummy smile making him look harmless. A little tow-haired boy with bright grey eyes took a timid pace forward.

"Are they…friendly?" he asked. She smiled.

"They won't hurt you," she promised. "Dragons are kind, friendly creatures. They only attack you if you attack them or try to hurt them. Just like any of us would do." The little boy inched further and two of his friends hissed a warning at him, but he looked up at Astrid with trusting eyes.

"Will they be my friends?" he asked softly. She recalled he was a timid but bright little lad who had been very determined in her classes. He reminded her a bit of Hiccup, in fact, so she smiled and nodded.

"If you stretched out your hand, palm first, to the dragon, he'll know you are not threatening him," she explained. "You are offering him your trust. If you trust him, he will trust you." The boy's eyes grew rounder and he gulped, his face pale but he bravely stretched out his hand and Toothless stared at him, then closed his eyes and pressed his nose against the trembling little palm. Astrid heard the gasp and saw the smile cross the little boy's features. Then Toothless opened his eyes and licked the boy firmly and was rewarded by a giggle.

"What's your name?" Astrid asked him.

"Henryk," the lad said.

"Toothless-this is Henryk," she smiled and the dragon gave a little coo. Then all the others were clamouring and Astrid grinned-and suddenly froze. Both dragons stiffened: Stormfly's frill and tail spikes flapped up and Toothless arched his back and his teeth snapped down, his pupils narrowing. "Children-get behind me-and the dragons!" she commanded as she snatched her axe. And then the Berserkers burst through the bushes and faced the children, Astrid-and two snarling dragons.

"DRAGONS!" the first one shouted unnecessarily as they charged. Astrid leapt forward, slamming one aside then ferociously attacking the next. There was a roar and the snikt of Nadder spines as Stormfly fired furiously and took out three. Toothless gave a roar and batted two men aside, then leapt hard onto another. Astrid finished off her man and attacked another as Stormfly grabbed another man and shook him fiercely, then pinned him under her claws. Toothless slammed the final man aside with his tail and then grabbed the first man, who was recovering, growling. Astrid slammed her last opponent senseless and then turned to the conscious men.

"Why are you after the children?" she snarled.

"I…" The man shook his head so she dug her axe deep into his neck.

"Do you want me to tell the dragons they can jump up and down on you?" she asked him sweetly. He began to panic.

"Chief Dagur wanted the children to see for slaves!" he gabbled. "The rest of the village was to be razed and the adults killed."

"But WHY?" Her tone was furious. The people of Snori were peaceful and welcoming.

"Dagur wants to restore the Berserkers to their former glory," the man said proudly. "He wants people to flee at the very sound of our name!" She dug her axe in deeper.

"In town-was there a boy…very short, red-brown hair, green eyes, one leg…" she began.

"Yeah-he's with Dagur!" the man admitted. "The Chief seemed to know him…and like him. Mind you, that can change…" She nodded and Toothless bashed the man senseless with his tail. He looked at her.

"Toothless-go find Hiccup," she told him firmly, taking their belts and tying up the remaining Berserkers. "Stormfly and I will get these kids away and back to their parents and then we'll join you. But I think Hiccup will need you urgently!" The dragon nodded, then galloped off, following the faint scent trail of his beloved little Viking.

oOo

Hiccup found himself in one of the most awkward meals ever, facing a deranged and rambling Dagur who had clearly completely lost his tenuous grasp on reality. So far he had ordered the burning of half the village, the execution of one of his own men and half the grain stores to be dumped in the sea. None of it made any sense. Anxious, the boy picked at his bread and the few slices of meat Dagur had salvaged from the flames and watched him.

After about an hour of rambling, raging and rather unpleasant reminiscing (usually about instances where Dagur had tormented or harmed Hiccup), he began to pace. "Where are they?" he asked, almost shouting at any man who came in to report.

"Who, Dagur?" Hiccup asked softly. The Berserker spun and his mad, pale eyes stared at Hiccup.

"The children!" he gabbled. "My slaves!" He suddenly leaned close to Hiccup. "You understand, don't you, brother?" His eyes were wild and Hiccup said, nothing, freezing at the proximity of such an unstable man who had hurt him in the past. "A Chief must be feared. And when word gets out that I razed this little speck of dragon dung from Midgard, that I killed all the people and sold the children for slaves, then they will fear the Berserkers once more! They will tremble at the sight of our sails and weep at the mention of our Armada and of Dagur the Deranged!"

Hiccup remained frozen until Dagur released him and then he blinked and slowly drew back slightly. "Don't kill them," he said softly. "They have done no harm and if you kill them-who will tell of your attack?"

"That'll be your job!" Dagur said suddenly. Hiccup blinked.

"Only if you spare them," he said evenly. "Survivors are much better at spreading fear and panic than the exiled runt son of a Tribal Chief." Then Dagur lunged forward and grabbed him by the throat.

"Brother…all I'm asking for is a little help," he said through his teeth. "So why can't you just co-operate?" Hiccup took a deep breath.

"Just what my Dad said," he shot back bitterly. Dagur narrowed his eyes-and then a shattering roar echoed through the village. Both young Vikings' heads snapped up and Hiccup's eyes shone in sudden relief. Dagur grabbed his axe and ran out of the hall and Hiccup stumbled out after him. The Berserker Chief gaped at the black winged shape that was firing plasma blasts at his men and batting them furiously aside with huge bat wings and long, supple tail. The Berserkers were in full retreat, racing back towards the ships and almost falling over themselves to get away. But their Chief tightened his grasp on his axe and advanced an unwise pace towards the snarling shape.

"Is that…" he gaped. Hiccup gave a smile.

"Yes. Dagur-meet the unholy offspring of lightning and death itself," he said and edged sideways away from the Berserker, the anxiety in his chest easing slightly. He managed to retrieve his sword and shield. "Behold a Night Fury." Then he dashed towards the dragon but Dagur threw him sideways. He slammed into the side of the building and slid to the floor, stunned. Toothless saw the attack and gave a huge roar of fury at the injury to his Viking.

"Oh no, brother!" he snarled. "You don't get the glory for this as well as supposedly ending the raids. I'm killing this dragon!"

And then he lifted his axe and with a scream, he charged at Toothless.


	41. Chapter Forty One

**Forty-One**

Hiccup looked up blearily, slumped against the filthy wall of the village hall, head pounding from where he had impacted against the building. Dagur had his sword raised over his head, screaming as he charged at Toothless. The Night Fury's back was arched, his eyes slitted and teeth snapped down in his plasma-filled mouth. Dagur was reckless but Hiccup could tell the man knew what he was doing. Toothless reared, batting the axe away, his tail slapping another Berserker aside. He roared but Hiccup could see the Berserker Chief was whirling a bola and Toothless would be trapped.

Forcing himself up on trembling limbs, the boy grabbed his shield, aimed and fired the concealed bola launcher at Dagur. It was based on the larger device that he used to bring Toothless down, all those months ago, so he knew it worked-unlike a number of his previous inventions. The Berserker gave a howl of rage as he was tangled in the ropes and fell to the floor as Toothless roared-and several nets landed on him. Hiccup gave a scream of anguish and staggered up, grabbing his sword and slashing at the nets, then fighting furiously with anyone who came close-until the Berserkers grabbed him, roughly disarming him. Dagur was cut free and the boy wrestled and cursed furiously.

"Brother, brother, brother-this dragon is mine," he sneered. "I'll let you have a wing…"

"No, I'm pretty much taking the whole thing!" Hiccup retorted, kicking out at the man holding him. The man yelped and he scrambled away-into the grasp of another man, who he bit. It earned him a harsh blow across the head. "Toothless-plasma blast!" The dragon instantly fired, the purple plasma blasting a hole through the nets and enabling the dragon to tear its way free. Hiccup wrestled furiously as the Berserker Chief stared at him while a dozen men surrounded Toothless, readying more bolas and nets.

"Do you and this dragon…have a relationship?" Dagur asked him suspiciously. Hiccup didn't answer, instead fighting harder. A much larger man had him easily restrained in his powerful embrace. "You and the Unholy Offspring of Lightning and Death Itself? No wonder your father is mad and seeking your return at any cost!" He gave a little giggle. "I can see a way to make sure we have a proper Treaty with Berk…when I sell Stoick his runaway son…and wear the dragon's skull as a helmet!" Hiccup stared in shock and saw the Berserkers close on his dragon, firing bolas and nets.

"No! Toothless!" he shouted as the dragon struggled desperately, wings and tail trapped by a dozen bolas. His muzzle looped in three bolas, Toothless was helpless as Hiccup kicked and writhed. Dagur stared at the dragon and his pale green eyes picked out what he had missed before: a saddle strapped high on the dragon's short neck. He turned his gaze back to the struggling boy and raised a hand.

"Subdue the dragon but don't slay it!" he commanded. "The boy seems fond of it…and as such, it may prove useful." He turned to Hiccup. "I don't like being lied to," he said sternly.

"I didn't lie," Hiccup shot back stubbornly. Dagur slapped him without hesitation, the sound loud in the tense silence.

"You didn't tell me the truth, boy!" he sneered. "You're no longer the Heir to Berk. You and this…abomination…you have for a pet…you are a traitor to all vikings. Your father…well, if he doesn't want to execute you, he's a fool!" Hiccup sighed.

"It's worse than that," he said through his teeth. "He wants me back…" Dagur stared at him and his ginger brows dipped in a frown.

"So you can train dragons like this one? Make weapons for Berk against us? Ohhh, Stoick-you old dog! Did you think you could outsmart me? Maybe my father, the peaceable fool, but not Dagur the Deranged!" Dagur grabbed Hiccup's face. "So you will train dragons for us instead!" Hiccup's eyes widened.

"I'm _never_ training you any dragons," he said stubbornly. Dagur grabbed his face, glaring into the forest green eyes.

"Oh, brother-you will…or I will start cutting pieces off your dragon," he smirked. "Take them to the ships!"

oOo

Astrid and Stormfly shepherded the children carefully to the far coast and the bay where the children had been told to head if there was trouble. Though they trusted her from their lessons, they were getting tired and scared and there were more than a few tears. Anxious about her friend and in an agony of concern that more Berserkers were on the way, Astrid found her patience stretched to the limit. She knew she wasn't the most sensitive and had some anger issues, but her experiences had changed her and she was trying. So she comforted the children and chivvied them along, sitting them on Stormfly and carrying the one little girl-Kersti-who was too scared to approach the Nadder.

They had been walking for an hour and Astrid was feeling very very scared now-because there was no sign of Hiccup or Toothless. Both should have been back…and she feared they had been captured-or worse, killed. But though she desperately wanted to go to him, she had promised to care for the children, so she cautiously took her little party all the way to the beach…and then she dragged them back, her face suddenly white in horror.

The boats were overturned, most scuppered. There were bodies everywhere, men and women hacked to death, their blood staining the dark sands. And there were Berserkers stationed on the beach. Astrid slapped her hand over the mouth of the first child as they caught sight of the massacre. And then the first child cried.

Instantly, the Berserkers turned to them and Astrid whistled through her teeth as Stormfly burst from the dense undergrowth. The girl broke cover as well, her eyes flashing. She charged the first one.

"Stormfly-get them!" she shouted as her axe slammed into the first. The snikt sounds of the Nadder's spines snapping up and being fired was suddenly loud, a constant zip and whizz as attacker after attacker found himself impaled by the very sharp and moderately poisonous spines of the girls' dragon. Astrid let herself go, her eyes unfocussing from the horrible scene and just imagining training targets. Duck, slash, jump, chop…every motion was measured, accurate, deadly. The children remained hidden, shocked, as their protector and her dragon cleared the beach, adding a dozen Berserkers to the dead people of Snori. Only when she was sure the enemy was defeated did she grab the last one.

"My friend, the boy with reddish-brown hair and green eyes: where is he?" she demanded in an arctic voice. The man gave a bleary, dying smile.

"He's with the Chief," he mumbled. "Traitor…"

"Oh, no…" she murmured and dropped him, turning to see the children emerge. She cast around the beach, searching for anyone-anyone-who could take the children but there was no one left. With a sigh, she stared at her charges and tried to pull them away from the grisly scene, but three had already seen family members and they ran, screams and tears beginning. Helpless, Astrid pulled the others back and made them stay with Stormfly by the cover, as she approached the children who had lost kin. Two small children were kneeling by dead men who had been dispatched swiftly and then she saw the tow-haired boy, standing frozen by two shapes cured together. She walked to him, shocked.

"Henryk?" she asked gently. He stared up at her, his face white and eyes swimming with tears. Her eyes flicked across the two shapes-a man and a woman, their bodies so close it was obvious the man was trying to protect the woman. "Your…parents?" He nodded as the first tear began to trickle down his face. "I'm so sorry…" she said genuinely and offered him her embrace He ran into her arms and began to sob wildly. sighing, she motioned Stormfly to go to the other devastated children and they hugged the crooning dragon, latching onto her warmth. Once Henryk was seated with the others, still devastated, she went to grab the others and gently swept them into her arms. Murmuring empty platitudes, she carried them back to her little group and sighed.

"We need to get to the village," she sighed. "They have my friend and his dragon. And I have to get him out. I promised I would always come for him. And he has been so badly hurt…he needs me…" Then she looked up. "But I know you need me as well." Seven pairs of fearful, grieving and trusting eyes stared at her with terrifying intensity. "I will get you to your people, children. Don't worry-I won't abandon you…"

 _Don't worry, Hiccup. I will never abandon you,_ she promised. _Just…hold on…_

oOo

He was thrown unceremoniously into the cage, the door clanging loudly in the hold as the guard spat at him and left. The dragon was chained and caged on the deck and Hiccup was in a total agony of fear for his friend. Dagur was not someone Hiccup liked or trusted, his experiences as a boy bad enough to convince him the Berserker was amoral, untrustworthy and violently sadistic. When Dagur had said he would cut pieces off Toothless, Hiccup totally believed him.

Over ten years of experience with Dagur had taught Hiccup that the man could not be trusted-or even predicted. And the fact that he had almost certainly murdered his father and taken over control of the Berserkers spelled disaster for Hiccup and all the other inhabitants of the Barbaric Archipelago. Despite his claims and persistence in calling the younger boy 'brother', Dagur had never been a friend to Hiccup and had frequently been his tormentor and his nemesis. And now he had his dragon-brave, loyal Toothless who had only been protecting his beloved Rider. And who would be maimed and killed if Hiccup didn't help Dagur.

_And what would be the harm?_

He almost forgot to breathe, he was so shocked at himself for even considering the concept. Allowing Berserkers-who had just attacked the unarmed and helpless Peaceables of Snori-access to dragons was just unthinkable. Dagur would have them attacking neighbouring islands with no warning, no declaration of war or chance for the people to resist or defend themselves. The mindless slaughter on Snori had showed what kind of enemy Dagur was. And the thought of dragon fire raking the islands of the Archipelago under Dagur's manically laughing command had him in a cold sweat. He didn't risk his life and give his leg to bring peace…and then hand the ultimate instruments of war to Dagur.

He sat up, his head aching from the blows Dagur had dealt him and the memories he had garnered as he had been forced to watch the execution of the last few unfortunate villagers that the Berserkers could find before they had left-with their captives. The only mercy was that Dagur wasn't taking him back to Berk…because Hiccup was far more valuable than just gaining the favour of Stoick. No, they were bound direct for Berserk and Hiccup only had a few days of voyage to come up with some plan-any plan-to thwart Dagur and save his dragon.

Then he curled up, feeling himself begin to shake. The motion of the ship was making him feel queasy-he had never been a great sailor, to be honest-and the fear was knotting his stomach tight. He wrapped his arms around his skinny body and chewed in his lip hard. _Astrid would come._ She had promised that she would always come for him.

_But what if she was dead?_

_No. He would know. In his heart, he would know._

_Gods-please let her be safe._

'Enjoying the accommodation, Hiccup?" Dagur sneered and the boy stiffened, raising his head and scanning the man's face. It was almost impossible to predict how Dagur would react because he was psychotic, his mind bouncing from one topic to another with no apparent connection…and the most innocent and random thing could trigger a towering fury that ended in bloody violence.

"I've had better," the boy sighed. "Heard Berserker hospitality was pretty good. Obviously, they were mistaken!"

"For a traitor, this is generous!" Dagur snarled, leaning close to the bars.

"I'm not of your Tribe and my father never called me thus," Hiccup said calmly. "Didn't you know? I'm the Pride of Berk…and the Heir to the island?"

"YOU ARE A TRAITOR TO ALL VIKINGS!" Dagur screamed at him, causing him to scrabble back in the cage as the Berserker fumbled with he key and hauled the door open, reaching in and grabbing the boy. Hiccup kicked and fought with all his might but he was dragged out and held firm. Shaking with rage, spittle swearing his face, Dagur lifted his arms and slapped Hiccup, over and over until the blood was roaring in his ears and his cheek felt as if it was on fire. Finally, he was thrown hard into the cage, slamming against the bars and biting his lip, before sliding to the floor. Breathing hard, his face beaded with sweat and eyes still wild with fury, Dagur watched him shakily wipe the blood from his face and pull himself to a slumped sitting position. The forest green eyes were wary and fearful…but there was still a small spark of defiance that gave Dagur hope. He really didn't want the boy broken…yet. He wanted to have the fun of breaking the boy piece by piece, of breaking his dragon, of having him swear fealty of Dagur…and only then, when the boy was his, would he train his dragons and return Hiccup to Berk. Until the day when Dagur razed Berk to the ground and reclaimed Hiccup as his slave.

"I'll never train your dragons," Hiccup mumbled, his eyes glazed with impending unconsciousness. Dagur smiled.

"Oh, that just makes me all tingly," he said cruelly. "You will train dragons…and I will watch you beg to serve me."

"Never…" the word was a final breath of defiance and Dagur smirked as the watched the boy's head loll.

"Oh, by the way-I hope you weren't waiting for your girlfriend to come and rescue you," he said viciously. "My men found her in the town. She was alone. They raped her-I rather think they had lots of fun with her-and then, when she was beyond begging for mercy, they killed her. No one's coming, Hiccup. You're lost."


	42. Chapter Forty Two

**Forty-Two.**

The village was eerily quiet as Astrid led her little group in. By now, the children were so tired and cranky that everyone would sit on Stormfly-even the timid Kersti, as Astrid scouted ahead, her axe readied. They had found more slaughtered villagers along the way, noting grimly that Berserkers were not discriminating of gender or age. Stormfly had flapped her way past the grisly sights swiftly and Astrid had felt horrible that she couldn't honour the fallen villagers as they deserved-but she had the living to protect and there seemed to be no one else left.

There were more bodies in the main plaza and the grain store and hall were burnt to the ground. Astrid cast about the village, checking the forge and finding the corpse of Stian, the other blacksmith…but no Hiccup. Axe readied, she prowled closer to the remains of the Village Hall…and saw something that made her heart stop. It was the shield, that stupid, metal-clad shield that he had been working on in his spare time, the one that he had tried to get her to understand. She recalled his forest green eyes sparkling in excitement and enthusiasm as he described how he was modifying it to give him an edge…as she had recommended. He knew he was small and had impaired mobility because of his metal leg…but his courage and ingenuity tackled the problem and the stupid shield was his answer. Dropping to her knees by the device, she saw the bola had been fired but there was no blood…and a careful search didn't show his body. And there was no sign of Toothless.

She stared at the children and quartered the village again. There were no Berserkers at all now-and all the ships had departed. They had gone…and Hiccup had to have gone with them. Not of his own volition because he had talked to her about Dagur and she knew he hated and feared the Berserker, but probably as an unwilling guest, if not a prisoner. And Toothless had to be with him, definitely a prisoner, because if he was free, Hiccup would have come for her with the Night Fury.

They were headed for Berserk. Hiccup was headed for Berserk, at the mercy of Dagur the Deranged, a man who had attacked and slaughtered a Peaceable Tribe without provocation. She took a shuddering sigh and ran her fingers through her dishevelled hair. He was still healing, still prone to nightmares and was still underweight and under-trained. He was clever and could be sarcastic and maybe that would be enough but Astrid would still go to his aid. She had promised and he was the only friend she had. And he would be scared that he would be taken back to Berk…and Astrid knew in her heart that if Stoick every got his hands on Hiccup again, he would never let the boy go again.

They camped out in the forge, a building that hadn't been touched because it hadn't been deemed worth bothering with. Curiously, since Hiccup worked here, Astrid knew the building well and knew where they hid the mead and snacks, where they could curl up out of the wind and how to light the forge for warmth. She left Stormfly in charge of the children as she brought water and food and set herself and her dragon to watch over her charges. But she was exhausted as well and Stormfly crooned reassuringly as the girl curled up and immediately fell asleep.

Stormfly's growl roused her in the early hours, when it was cold and frosty and the stars were white dots in the misty sky. She gripped her axe tight and uncoiled, crouching in readiness to fend off any attack and protect the children.

Steps were closing, uneven and stumbling and she heard a cough. Peering carefully round the door she saw a single shape listing as he staggered up the street. Gripping her axe, she sneaked out into the frost-hardened street and confronted the man.

It was Leifur, the Chief of the village-and he was wounded. His eyes widened as he saw her and there was utter relief as well.

"The children?" he gasped. She nodded.

"Safe," she assured him. He took another step.

"How?" he gasped.

"My dragon and I protected them, as I promised," she told him proudly. "They are in the forge." She paused. "And my friend?" His eyes darkened and she felt her heart lurch. But he was listing and before she could get to him or he could answer her question, he collapsed onto the ground.

Stormfly responded instantly to her whistle and helped her to drag the unconscious man back into the warmth and security of the forge. Of course, the children woke as they arrived and Astrid had to order them back, but they would only obey when Henryk asked them to. The lad scooched in by Astrid as she inspected Leifur's wounds and saw a deep gash to his shoulder and a superficial wound to his side-enough to lose blood and feel awful but not enough to kill him. Searching in Stormfly's pack, she found some bandages and tended the Chieftain as best she could, then wrapped him in her blanket and gave him water and dried yak jerky. Finally, she settled down to keep guard, too wired and unnerved to sleep now. Despite the interruption, the children soon curled back up in little huddles of two or three, with Henryk firmly at her side. Since the death of his family, the eager boy had been quiet and subdued, seeking solace from the dragon and her rider. With a sigh, she gently wrapped an arm around him and felt him lean into her embrace. She knew the comfort made him feel better and she felt a little better too. She just wished it was Hiccup sleeping safely at her side.

The morning was cold and grey, drizzle thickening the air and the stench of death hanging over the village. Leifur woke with a groan, disorientated eyes searching until Astrid leaned over him and pressed the skin of water to his lips. He drank thirstily and slowly tried to sit up, hissing in pain at his wounds. He glanced around and saw the children, staring at their wounded Chief with huge, scared eyes-and then at Astrid for guidance.

"Hiccup," she said sternly. He frowned, then shifted his position slightly.

"He sent me to find my family," he said softly, his voice toneless. "They found them first. I fought…but they were stronger. I was wounded. My family…" His words stuttered to a halt and the girl bowed her head.

"I am sorry," she said genuinely: she had known the Chief's wife, a kindly and welcoming young woman with a year old son. Their death was utterly pointless.

"Is everyone dead?" Henryk asked suddenly and the Chief winced, staring at her for askance. Shrugging, all Astrid could offer was the bleak words:

"They've seen." Leifur sighed and turned his haunted face to them.

"Just us left," he murmured. "I think…everyone else is gone…" Then he looked up at Astrid. "Can I ask a favour? Can you check? See if anyone else is alive?" She stared at him and her eyes flared with anger.

"My friend…is a prisoner," she reminded him sharply. "They have him and will be taking him to Berserk. He will be hoping I come for him. I cannot…"

"You swore to help and protect the children," Leifur reminded her and she groaned.

"That's low, Chief or not," she said tightly, her eyes flashing with anger. "My friend got you away and he's been taken by the Berserkers. He knows Dagur…and that man had tormented him for years. I owe him…" And then she felt Henryk's hand tighten on her arm. "But you know I won't leave you guys, right?" she said, turning to the children with resignation. There were nods all round, trust warming the scared and grubby faces. Leifur watched her speak gently to them, calming them, and realised that she had comforted and protected them as no one else could have. "Your Chief has asked me to check for any more survivors so I want you all to help him. You need to see if you can salvage anything from the cottages: clothes, blankets, food, weapons. Anything you can take. Because you can't stay here."

There were cries and protests but the Chief nodded and sat more upright. He had come to the same conclusion. "We will find a seaworthy boat and head to join another tribe…and warn them of the Berserkers," he decided. Raising an eyebrow, Astrid grasped her axe and closed her pack once more.

"Where will you go?" she asked, rising and checking her saddle.

"Nog," the Chief decided, slowly and achingly levering himself to his feet. He looked pale but stood proudly. "Okay-who wants to come with me and who wants to go with Astrid?" Every hand went up to go with the girl and she sighed, rolling her eyes in exasperation. Her preference would be to go on her own…but she recognised she needed to take some of the children. In the end, three boys came with her as they quartered the village-then flew over the island, finding an old woman and a teenage boy hiding from the attackers. But no one else was alive.

Leifur located a seaworthy boat in one of the coves and once they had found everything they could salvage, they set sail to the north-west, towards the small and unremarkable Peaceable Isle of Nog. Nog was as anonymous as Snori and the people were welcoming but it was a day's sail away from Snori…and a day in wrong direction from Hiccup.

 _Hang on, Hiccup. I'm coming,_ she prayed.

oOo

They kept him cold, hungry and very uncomfortable, starving him of fresh air and any news about his dragon. He was fed a few scraps only and he fell on them like a starving man, keeping as far away as he could from the Berserker guard, who was free with his boots and fists. Dagur had made his orders very clear: give the prisoner a hard time.

He had been curled in his cell, desperate and miserable and hopeless. The news of Astrid's death had hit him like an axe to the stomach, knocking all the fight out of him. He had imagined that he would have felt her die, that their bond was close enough that he would know. But she was gone and there was nothing to mark her passing…no eclipse, no thunderstorm, nothing to say that the world was poorer one Astrid Hofferson. That he had lost the girl he loved.

And that had been the problem: he had only realised that he loved her and needed her when she was never coming back. She had been there for him ever since Toothless was uncovered, when he was disowned and exiled, when he had been sick and dying and crippled, when she had been shamed and he had been trapped. And she had always promised to be there for him.

But she was gone. She was gone. She had been his Valkyrie, his dream, his future. He had dreamed of spending his life with Astrid Hofferson from when he was ten, always suspecting it would never happen because she was far too good for him and he was the village screw-up. And when she had come to save him from Snotlout and the twins, he had really hoped and prayed that she was wanting to be his friend, that she would at least treat him like a human being.

And then she had beaten him and he had felt his heart shatter. It had been the worst day of his life and he had thought it would be the last. But afterwards, she had repented and shown that she really felt remorse. And though he was frightened of her, he had slowly come to believe that he could trust her and he had forgiven her. He could never forget what she had done to him but he would now trust her with his life. He knew he could always trust her with his life. Once she had rescued him from Stoick's clutches, he had realised she was the only human he could fully trust (except Gobber). And she had not failed him. He only slept sound in her arms. He only felt safe when she was there. He only imagined the future at her side.

But she was gone. Dagur had taken her…and he threatened to take Toothless. And though his grief and despair and utter desolation, he made a vow. Dagur would never get Toothless…and he would never learn to fly a dragon.

On the second day of the voyage, they brought him onto deck and he saw the cage with the black shape within. Toothless heard his uneven steps immediately and thrashed against his bonds, raising his head. He was muzzled and chained and Hiccup broke free of his captors to run to the cage.

"TOOTHLESS! Oh, bud-what have they done to you?" he gasped, seeing chains biting into the dragon's wings, fresh cuts on the dragon's flanks and blood spotting the floor of the cage. Toothless's acid green gaze was mournful and miserable, his face pressing urgently against Hiccup's outstretched hands. The warmth and love in the connection surged through the boy and he felt his eyes burn with tears of shame that he had brought his best friend to this. "Oh bud, I'm so sorry. This is all my fault," he whispered, There was nothing but forgiveness in Toothless's expression but Hiccup cringed with guilt-and then he began to drag at the muzzle. He was swiftly hauled back, a slap to the face smearing his vision with red.

"Tsk, tsk, brother-naughty, naughty! I didn't give you permission to untie the beast!" Dagur's voice was meaning as the boy craned his neck to glare at his captor.

"You have to untie him, Dagur!" he shouted. "He can't eat!"

"Maybe I want him weak and docile!" the Berserker taunted him. "And honestly-what kind of name is Toothless anyway? I mean-he obviously does have teeth. So why not something more appropriate…like Deathwing? Maybe we can change his name when you train him for me."

"You are NEVER getting Toothless," Hiccup said angrily, fighting against the iron grips that were bruising his skinny arms. "Dagur-let him go!" The Berserker lurched forward and Hiccup shrank from the older man, his ambiguous and unsettling expression scaring the boy.

"Oh no, brother," Dagur breathed coldly. "You wear your heart on your sleeve and any threat to your dragon has you rushing in like a Berserker yourself!" His hand grabbed the bruised face of the Hooligan Heir. "So I think we need a lesson. Tell me how you start training a dragon…or the reptile suffers…" Stomach dancing with fear and apprehension, Hiccup stared into the mad pale eyes and knew nothing he could say would stop Dagur.

"First, you get a dragon of your own and then you LET ME GO!" Hiccup shouted, earning himself a punch in the face. Dagur pushed him back then lifted his knife, wrenching the cage door open and moving towards the helpless Night Fury.

"Okay, dragon-just so you know-this is HIS fault!" he leered, then lifted his knife…

oOo

It had taken far longer than expected to get away from the remains of the Peaceable Snori Tribe than Astrid had expected. Leifur had managed to persuade the Nog Tribe that she was a friend-despite the fact that she rode a dragon-and as Hiccup wasn't present, she had felt she ought to explain about how they befriended and started riding dragons. The people had been very interested and promised that she would be welcome back-with her friend-when he was rescued.

The children had been distraught that she was leaving and she had dealt with the tears and whimpers as patiently as she could, promising that she would return one day and give them all the chance to go with her and become dragon riders. The girls had been less enthusiastic but the boys had been really excited…except Henryk, who had stared miserably at the ground. Seeing him so miserable, she had crouched by the boy and took his hands.

"You need a home, somewhere safe," she had said quietly.

"If I'm with you, I'll be safe," he pointed out.

"I have to go and find my friend. he's in trouble-he needs me," she tried to explain.

"But you're leaving me-just like Mom and Dad," he said quietly and his eyes shimmered with tears. Not knowing what else she could do, she had hugged him tightly and he had clung to her, crying. "I want to go with you," he whimpered.

"It will be dangerous where I go," she explained kindly. "I think you need security and a tribe to care for you."

"You don't want me," he whispered, pulling away.

"No, I…" she protested but he scrambled up and started running. She stared helplessly after him: she needed to get after Hiccup and daylight was waning. The boy was safely on a Peaceable Island and the tribe here would look out for him. She was sure that he would get over the disappointment of her departure in time. Leifur and the other children said their goodbyes and, laden down with bandages, ointments, food, furs and cloth, Astrid leapt up onto Stormfly and grinned at the Nadder. "Up, up!" she called to her dragon and they threw themselves into the air.

She was just grinning and waving a final goodbye to the villagers when she saw a small shape running towards them. "WAIT!" Henryk shouted, waving. "Don't go! Please!"

She stared up and continued climbing, circling for a final view of the village-and seeing the boy still standing, his shoulders slumped and looking utterly desolate. And she recalled how eager and bold he was with the dragons, how he had been the first to come forward and how he was curious and brave. Just like Hiccup. And she knew the image of the weeping boy, standing alone outside the village, would haunt her.

And who else did he have? She knew that their existence was precarious, that she and Hiccup had run away and that she should be concentrating on rescuing him…but this was a boy who was just as alone as they were-and who the dragons liked as well. She rolled her eyes, sighed and swooped back down, landing by the boy. She leapt to the ground and offered the lad her hand.

"Are you sure?" she asked softly. He nodded, a faint flicker of life reigniting in his grey eyes and his hand tightened around hers. With a sigh, she boosted him onto the saddle, then leapt up herself, sitting in front of him and pausing. "Hold on!" she commanded. "Stormfly is very fast-and we need to travel fast to get to Hiccup." And then they launched again, this time arrowing up fast into the grey and cloudy sky. She felt the arms tighten around her waist but the boy was silent, though she could feel his rapid breathing behind her.

"Are you okay?" she called.

"It's…high!" he squeaked. She levelled out, recalling her first flight on Toothless and how scared she had felt.

"Are you okay?" she asked him seriously. "I can take you back now, Henyrk. But after that, I am gone." He paused and she could almost feel his heart racing through their contact.

"I want to go with you." he said stubbornly. "I'll…be fine…" And then they burst through the cloud layer and suddenly the sky was filled with sun and was blue and cold and beautiful. She felt the head lift and the sudden, slight sigh of shock as the boy shared the wonder she had felt on her first flight, touching clouds and basking in the Aurora.

"Like it?" she asked as she felt his grip loosen and one arm reach out for the wisps of cloud overhead. "They're disappointingly wet," she added and he grinned.

"Wow," he gasped. "I-I always thought dragons were dangerous monsters…but they're amazing, aren't they?" The echo of her friend's words had Astrid smiling.

"You know, I think my friend, Hiccup, is gonna get on really well with you," she murmured. "He thinks dragons are amazing…"

And then Stormfly backwinged with an indignant screech as a much larger shape arrowed up through the clouds in front of them, hovering menacingly ahead and just above them. It was a dragon that Astrid couldn't recall ever seeing, with an owl-like face and four wings that beat powerfully. But the most astonishing thing was that the dragon had a rider as well-a person in furs and a weird, painted wooden mask that completely obscured his face, standing on the back of the strange dragon. Before Astrid's shocked eyes, the Rider gestured with a weird, hooked staff and suddenly Astrid felt a wrench on her shoulders, ripping her from the saddle…


	43. Chapter Forty Three

**Forty-Three.**

The fourth day of the voyage had Hiccup starving, denied food since he had argued with Dagur and cursing and fighting after the Berserker had tortured his dragon. Hiccup had been heedless of his own safety, attacking Dagur with all his limited strength and taking the beating it earned without complaint because his desperate forest green eyes had been locked on the dragon, seeing the whimpering, bloody shape slumped at the bottom of the cage, green eyes pleading with his Rider. The sight had broken Hiccup's heart.

He scarcely looked up as Dagur opened the door of the cage and motioned his guards to haul the boy out. Fierce grips tightened on his arms as he was dragged onto the deck and he raised his bruised face to stare into Dagur's wild expression.

"Hic-cup!" he sneered, his cold pale green eyes sliding over the skinny shape before him. "Feeling more co-operative today?"

"Dagur, I gave you my answer before," Hiccup sighed in a rasping voice, his throat dry from lack of water.

"Wow. You must really not care AT ALL for this dragon!" the Berserker sneered, pointing to the cage with the Night Fury in. Hiccup stared in horror at the shape: thinner and weak from lack of food and water, his wounds still open and fresh…or were they fresh? His horrified gaze swung up to stare into the sneering face of the older man and he swallowed.

"Dagur…what have you done?" he asked in a shaking voice. Dagur smirked and walked over to inspect the dragon. Then he lifted his wrists and displayed new, black vambraces.

"Genuine Night Fury skin…" he crowed and Hiccup felt sick. "And plenty more when that came from…" Stealing a glance at the brutalised dragon, knowing that brave, faithful Toothless would never leave him, no matter how useless he was in protecting his best friend, Hiccup finally sagged, his eyes blurred with utter defeat. He had no one else, nothing else. His Tribe was lost to him, his father wanted to imprison and destroy him and Astrid was…no more. He had nothing except Toothless.

"No more," he whispered. "Just-just stop torturing him, Dagur. You win. I'll train your dragons."

oOo

Astrid was screaming and shouting in rage, her legs kicking over the thousand foot drop and hands clawing at the powerful claws holding her in place.

"LET ME GO!" she screamed. "I have a young boy on my dragon! He can't fly without me! He'll fall to his death!"

But the shape standing on the strange four-winged dragon merely gestured with his staff and Astrid craned her neck…to see another dragon of a type she didn't recognise holding Henryk in his claws. He looked scared to death, his scruffy fair hair ruffled in the cold wind.

"Are you alright?" she shouted to him, seeing Stormfly being escorted in by four other dragons, who were flying above and below, in front and behind her so she had nowhere to go. Henryk gulped.

"Is this supposed to happen?" he shouted back, his eyes frightened.

"Not really…but as long as we don't panic, all we have to do is get Stormfly back and then we can get back to rescuing Hiccup!" she shouted. "The only problem is that we'e heading in completely the wrong way!"

The freezing flight continued for another hour, until Astrid knew she was on the brink of hypothermia. Henryk had stopped talking some time earlier and she was genuinely worried for the young boy: she felt responsible for him, even though he had insisted on coming, because she was the closest to a family that she had left. Kicking her legs made her tired but did seem to warm her up and she continued with grim determination until the dragons swooped under a hole in a glacier-to see a small island crowned by huge green spikes of ice, forming an enormous structure the size of the mountain.

The strange rider and the dragons-including their captives-all swooped through a gap in the green ice and began whipping through smooth and gently glowing tunnels until they broke into an enormous cave, rising maybe a couple of hundred feet overhead, lit by a warm green light. They were dropped onto a cliff overlooking a depression and a lake…or was it a pool leading to the sea? There was moss on the walls and ground and a waterfall of gently melting ice-water that cascaded down one wall. And in the depression was the hugest dragon Astrid had ever seen-larger than the Red Death. But this dragon was pure white with a massive head crowned by spines, small cold blue eyes, a flattened muzzle and ragged, stunted wings. This one clearly didn't fly and by the way it was sitting in the pool of icy saltwater, it was probably a sea-dragon, a Tidal Class. A pang hit her then: Hiccup would have loved to see this, would have been completely overjoyed at clapping eyes on an unknown dragon for the first time.

Then the thud of feet hitting the ground drew her back to the present and she saw the strange rider land behind her. Henryk raced to Astrid's side as the girl grasped her axe fiercely. There was a caw and Stormfly flapped in, landed by her Rider and protectively curling around her and the boy, her spines raised. The Rider took a step forward, his head tilting under the fierce blank mask with the eye-slits.

"What were you doing with that dragon?" he growled, his voice a low, gruff sound, muffled by the mask. Astrid stood forward, her axe in her hand and Henryk behind her.

"I was riding her!" she snapped. "I am her rider. Now let us go! My friend is in trouble!"

"And is he a Dragon Trapper too?" he accused them.

"Trapper?" Astrid voice was filled with disgust. "I have no idea what you are talking about! My friend and I are Riders. He made peace with the dragons and…"

"That's impossible!" the stranger said flatly. "You are Vikings. And Vikings cannot change!"

"You're wrong!" Henryk said suddenly. "I am from Snori and we met Astrid and Hamish. We were attacked by Berserkers and Astrid took us to their dragons-her Deadly Nadder and his Night Fury…"

"Night Fury? They are all gone!" the stranger scoffed.

"They're not!" Henryk shouted. "I saw him. He _purred_ at me! And he ran off to help Hamish…and then Hamish was captured by the Berserkers…"

"My friend and I are exiled from Berk," Astrid admitted. "My…friend and I fell foul of the Chief and he put a price on my head. He wants Hamish back but he wants to kill me. We befriended dragons but he captured my Stormfly and Hamish and I had to rescue him…and her. Then we ran…"

"But your dragons are enslaved…" the stranger accused them. "Serving you out of fear when they could be free…"

"Stormfly is my friend…and she stays with me because she chooses," Astrid said fiercely. The Nadder gave a croak and Astrid turned to her, a gentle expression on her face. "It's okay, girl…we'll go find Toothless as soon as well can…" Her hand gently stroking the horned face, she turned back to the stranger. "Please…my friend is in danger-and so is his dragon. Dagur wants to learn how to train and fly dragons and if he learns, then no island will be safe…"

"What should I care for dragon-killers?" the stranger asked sharply. Astrid clenched her fists and had to squash her temper down hard at the dismissive words.

"Because not everyone kills dragons," she said. "My friend and I are trying to change minds about dragons…Berk…Snori…Nog…and there are many innocents who will be slaughtered in their beds by Dagur's Berserkers if he isn't stopped!"

"But…"

"Do you really want dragons enslaved by Dagur the Deranged?" Astrid asked. "He wiped out the Peaceable island of Snori. He has what may be the last Night Fury. And he has my friend! I am no dragon killer or hunter or trapper. I befriend dragons…and I ride them. And my friend…he's amazing. He trained a Titanwing Monstrous Nightmare in moments to save me when I had accidentally stumbled upon it when I was training in the woods." She blushed. "I was stupid…and he saved me. But he is skinny and small and has been treated really badly and I don't know how well he'll cope with Dagur…"

"Berk? Berk has peace with dragons?" the stranger asked cynically. Astrid sighed.

"They are supposed to…but the Chief may not be doing what Hamish suggested to keep the peace," Astrid sighed. "Hamish fought the creature controlling the dragons and making them raid. It was a Red Death, a huge monster that forced them to raid to feed it. Hamish fought on Toothless and they brought it down. It exploded and the dragons were freed…"

The stranger looked up at the owl-faced four-winged dragon behind him and the dragon lowered his head and gave a small coo. Finally, the stranger pulled his mast off, to reveal a middle-aged woman with grey-streaked red-brown hair in long braids, a thin, pointed face and green eyes. She almost looked familiar…but Astrid knew she had never seen the tall woman before.

"The Bewilderbeast felt the death of a powerful dragon, a Red Death Queen some months back," she said, her tone finally a mite warmer. "That was your friend Hamish?" Astrid nodded: with Stoick looking for them both, it seemed sensible not to use Hiccup's real name. "And the Chief of Berk who threatens the peace?"

"That would be Stoick the Vast," Astrid said with a sigh. The stranger's green eyes narrowed.

"I know Stoick," she said coldly. "He isn't capable of change." Then she paused. "Who is his heir?" Astrid gulped.

"Snotlout Jorgensen," she said and for a fleeting second, there was a look of regret and sorrow on the woman's face that was just as instantaneously gone.

"So his son is dead?" she clarified. Frowning, Astrid stared more closely at her: _how did this woman know of Hiccup?_

"Exiled," she said, opting for a half-truth. "He…er…wasn't viking enough for his father." There was a pause and the faintest look of regret crossed the stranger's face once more.

"So your friend is in danger?" she repeated. Astrid nodded, lowering her axe.

"He'll be at Berserk now," she sighed. "And Dagur will want him to co-operate…and, I guess, do whatever he has to in order to make him!" Inclining her head, the woman sighed.

"Cloudjumper…is that dragon under any duress?" she asked. The strange four-winged dragon inched forward and made a few growls. Stormfly cawed back, then gave a little croon, inching closer to Astrid. The stranger's face suddenly twisted in shock. "Astonishing…the dragon is here voluntarily!" Astrid scowled at her.

"Which is what I've been saying," she said, mostly keeping the irritation from her voice. "I'm telling you the truth! Please...I have to rescue my friend." The woman paused and turned away from Astrid.

"I need to speak with the Bewilderbeast," she said thoughtfully and paused, seeing the confused face of the young blonde woman. She gestured to the enormous white dragon, her voice respectful and proud. "Every nest has its Queen but this-this is the _King_ of all dragons-the Alpha species! The Bewilderbeast!" Astrid stared at the creature as it shifted its enormous bulk, remote pallid blue eyes boring into her own azure gaze. Her jaw dropped as the creature loomed above her and exhaled slightly, its icy breath rolling over the girl and frosting her hair and the edge of her axe. She scowled and swiped the rime off her golden bangs. She huffed and the dragon gave the faintest rumble that she felt in her chest.

"I think he approves," the strange woman explained and then turned to the huge dragon. "Stay here. I will have some food brought to you..." And then she leapt onto the owl-faced dragon, Cloudjumper and vanished into the cave. Astrid watched her and sighed, realising they would be prevented from leaving until the woman gave her permission. Then she turned to Henryk.

"Are you alright?" she asked quietly and the boy nodded.

"Just cold," he admitted, his own hair still frosty. Astrid ruffled his hair clear and smiled, then walked to Stormfly, fishing the cloak from her pack and wrapping it around him. "Do you think Hamish will be okay?" Astrid paused and, for a moment, her clear blue gaze betrayed her worry for her friend.

"He's smart and he's brave," she sighed. "I just hope that's enough."

oOo

Hiccup had refused to do anything until they allowed him to tend Toothless's wounds and feed the injured dragon. Dagur himself had presided over the beating his defiance earned him but the boy bit his lip hard and endured as he had for years back in Berk. Toothless had watched with a pitiful croon and had desperately tried to get to his friend as the blows fell, whimpering and growling as a host punch hit the skinny shape. And then finally, they had allowed him into the cage.

Battered and bloody, Hiccup had crawled to the Night Fury and had embraced him fiercely, his green eyes horribly shadowed with shame and guilt.

"Oh, this is all my fault, bud," he murmured, feeling the dragon press hard into his trembling shape, the warmth seeping through the affectionate contact. "I should never have gone back to help those people. I should have gotten out of there as soon as the Berserkers showed up. You never should've come for me..."

A little croon, adequately reminding Hiccup _I will never leave you._ He just curled tighter against the dragon, trembling hands caressing the dry scales.

"Let's get these wounds dressed," he murmured. "And give you some fish, hmm?" Toothless managed a small lick, his green eyes trusting his little Viking. No matter what had happened to them, Toothless trusted Hiccup. He knew the boy would do anything for his dragon...even helping the evil flame-headed man who had beaten his rider. Pupils narrowing for the briefest of seconds, the Night Fury vowed one day to kill the man...especially if he touched Hiccup ever again.

Once the dragon had been tended and both boy and dragon had been given water and food, Hiccup was shackled and hauled from the cell, his wrists tied in front of his waist. He was limping from his beating and moving really awkwardly due to the shackles so when he fell, he landed hard and just lay there. Vorg, one of Dagur's captains, grabbed him by the hair and dragged the boy to his feet, slapping him hard.

"You aren't fooling us," he growled. "You train the dragons now or all of Dagur's senior commanders will have Night Fury armour..." Green eyes blazing with hatred, Hiccup shook himself free and stumbled along.

"Okay," he murmured. "Let's get on with this..."

The Berserker Kill Ring was very similar to Berk's, the floor still stained with the rusty smears of dried dragon blood. Dagur loved slaughtering the scaly beasts and it was clear his tribe indulged him. They all referred to his Chief and Hiccup realised his worsts suspicions were correct: Dagur had killed his father, Oswald the Agreeable, the most non-violent Chief the Berserkers had ever had. And that meant trouble for everyone in the Archipelago. The Peaceable Island of Snori was almost certainly just the first of his victims…

Once in the Ring, the unpleasant Captain Vorg sliced the rope around his hands and unshackled him…and then they backed away. As the barred gate clanged shut behind them, Hiccup was unpleasantly reminded of his Final Exam, standing alone in the Ring with various spectators watching him confront a dragon. Of course, this time, there wasn't a selection of shields and a rack of weapons to choose from but on the plus side, his father wasn't here either. Hiccup pulled his skinny shoulders back and faced towards the pen opposite.

"I'm ready," he announced.

The doors swung open and a furious green Deadly Nadder erupted out, hissing, flapping its wings and raising its tail, the spines raised and ready. More confident and ready, Hiccup sprang forward, dodging into the blind spot and swaying side to side as the dragon swung its head, looking for him. Slowly, calming his breathing, he backed away and made himself visible to the anxious dragon. He could see the pupils were narrow slits int he brilliant yellow eyes, the spines were raised and the Nadder's amber and jade frill was flared in agitation. But then, this place smelled of death, even to Hiccup and must be a thousand times worse to a dragon who had probably seen or heard other dragons die in this place. Hiccup knew in the dragon's place, he would be _terrified._

"Shh, girl," he murmured, his voice calm and gentle. "I'm not here to hurt you. I'm not one of _them!"_ His forest green gaze flicked up for a second, casting an angry look at Dagur before locking all his concentration onto the dragon. The spines clicked in position and he realised the Nadder was about to play what Astrid termed 'the spine game', where Stormily would sudden fire spines at Astrid-usually not close enough to harm her but close enough to give the girl's amazing agility and reflexes a good workout. Hiccup had the uncomfortable premonition he wouldn't be anywhere near as good as her. But he dived and ruled forward as spine zipped at him, embedding deeply into the arena floor. He rolled to his knees and gently raised his left hand, palm forward.

"C'mon," he sighed. "Do I look like a threat? Smell me if you need proof I'm one of the good guys…"

There was a long moment as the dragon's beak hovered perilously close to his hand, well within range that it could have bitten his hand off if it had wished. He felt the huff of warm air on his hand as he paused, his head turned away and prayed…and then he felt the warm pressure of the scaly muzzle on his skin. He gave a little tentative rub and chanced a look up…to see the pupils wide and calm and the frill lowered.

"H-hi…" Hiccup said with relief, his bruised face tilting in a smile. He lifted his other hand and rubbed the muzzle gently, hearing the dragon croak gently. He levered himself to his feet, his stump aching, but he walked to her side and rubbed her soothingly, feeling the very dry scales. Frowning and recalling how the dragons loved to frolic in the water, he spat on his palm and gently rubbed the moisture into the scaly skin on the Nadder's shoulder. She immediately soothed, her eyes half-closing and purring.

"Food," he growled and Vorg glared at him. "Get me some fish. She needs it for the process!" The Berserker looked to his Chief, who was mildly disappointed that Hiccup hadn't been eaten-or at least partially maimed-gave a small nod. Grumbling promising painful vengeance on the Berkian prisoner, Vorg snarled at his men and a handful of fish were tossed in. Hiccup found the choicest one of a rather poor and smelly lot and offered it to the dragon. She smiled…then ravenously accepted it, snuffling for the less good offerings and hungrily polishing off the lot.

Seeing her content and relaxed, he gently approached, then threw himself onto her back. She fidgeted and her pupils narrowed a little, but he spat in his palm again and she calmed at the gentle rubbing. She allowed him to sit on her as she took off, circled the arena…and then landed. With a small smile, he slid off.

"Well-is the dragon ready?" Dagur shouted impatiently. Hiccup sighed and nodded, his hand still resting against her.

"She is trained," he murmured. "Not for battle or proper riding but yeah…"

"Good!" Dagur shouted and men raced into the ring. The Nadder gave an alarmed squawk and hissed, curling her tail protectively round the skinny boy. With a sigh, Hiccup rested his hand against her neck and held the other up to slow down the advancing Berserkers.

"Easy," he advised them firmly. "If you want her as a trained dragon, don't spook her. Slow and easy. Talk to her. be gentle…please…" Dagur gave a sneer.

"Put the beast back in the cage!" he shouted and she gave a pathetic squawk as the men ignored their trainer, shoving him aside and manhandling the frightened dragon back into her pen. Hiccup stared up from the floor, shaking his head slightly. He had trained the dragon as requested, shown her trust and kindness…and the Berserkers had signally failed to follow his lead. In scaring and mistreating the newly trained dragon, she would remain bonded to him…and hostile to the Berserkers. It was as he suspected they would behave, being led by a violent psychopath. And it played exactly into his hands.

Dagur folded his arms and sneered at the skinny prisoner.

"Next!"

oOo

A variety of dragons that Astrid wasn't familiar with had dropped logs and driftwood of various sizes by the girl and her companion. The dragons were a variety of sizes and seemed timid, some with obvious wounds and amputations-perhaps from the Dragon Trappers the woman had mentioned earlier. They had also brought a pile of fish that the shield maiden had deftly trimmed and gutted with her axe, then toasted efficiently over the fire. Henryk had been forced to eat two toasted fish because she knew he was a growing boy and neither of them had a meal for a long time. The rest of the fish went to Stormfly, who gratefully ate them, then settled down by the fire, with Astrid and Henryk resting against her, close enough to the fire to keep warm. Feeling the boy snuggle against her, she lay down as well, just intending to rest her eyes…

_Astrid? Astrid? help me…please…_

_Hiccup…I'm coming! Just…hang on…_

_Why have you abandoned me? I-I need you so much…_

_I'm coming, Hiccup…_

_No, you're not. If you were, you would've crept out. Instead, you've had a meal and curled up by a nice fire, while Dagur starves and tortures me! I-I thought we were friends…_

_We are…_

_I thought you promised to always come for me…_

_I am coming…_

_What's the point of coming…if I'm already dead?_

"HICCUP!"

Her eyes snapped open and she cried as she was shaken awake, the unfamiliar pale face of the woman leaning over hers. the forest-green eyes looked vaguely familiar as the woman offered her a small wooden cup of herbal tea. her brow furrowed as she pushed the bowl into Astrid's trembling hands. The woman's face was curious.

"Hiccup?" she murmured and Astrid blinked, taking a sip of the really foul brew as a way of taking her mind off the nightmare. She managed not to gag.

"Hmm?"

"You shouted 'Hiccup'," the woman asked her. "Why?" Astrid inspected the woman. There was a tension…almost a hope in her eyes but the girl had made her decision to protect her friend.

"Uh…yeah…he was my friend, the Chief's son who was exiled," she murmured. "I-I sometimes see him and worry what has happened to him." She paused and took another sip to clear the images. "It was a nightmare, actually," she admitted. The woman sighed.

"It must be hard to leave someone you care for," she sighed and Astrid nodded, thinking about Hiccup…'Hamish'.

I promised I will come for you and no matter what they say, I will be coming, Hiccup. Just hold on, she promised silently. The older woman sighed.

"You may call me Veurr," she said softly.

"Protector," Henryk murmured sleepily.

"I am Astrid Hofferson," Astrid introduced herself proudly. "This is my friend Henryk Kjeldsen. And please…you must let us go! My friend Hamish is in danger…"

"And his dragon," the woman said, sitting back on her heels. "The Bewilderbeast knows the dragon- the Night Fury-must be rescued. You can leave to rescue him-and I will come with you!"

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Veurr=Protector in Old Norse


	44. Chapter Forty-Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Veurr means 'protector'. As in 'of dragons'. And yes, this rider is the same person who features in HTTYD 2 and meets Hiccup then…but as you may guess, things don't play out quite the same in this version…

**Forty-Four.**

Hiccup was utterly exhausted as he was driven back to the cell after a long and wearing day training dragons for Dagur. He had managed to calm, befriend and start training nine dragons and had only sustained three cuts, a large bruise and one small burn in the process. He was good…but the Berserkers did their best to sabotage his efforts and did everything they could to not listen to his advice on training their dragons. So while Hiccup calmed the dragons and made the friendly and relaxed, ready for bonding, they threatened and struck the poor beasts and made them fear Berserkers more.

Needless to say, Dagur, who had the patience of an ant, was highly displeased that his dragon calvary wasn't fully trained and ready to fly by the end of the day…and not even Hiccup's heartfelt and exasperated protests could dissuade the Chief from beating the young prisoner.

"Ow!" Hiccup protested as he was thrown to the ground, a boot slamming into his side. "I've done everything you asked me to, Dagur! How-how is this fair?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, _Hic-cup_ ," Dagur sneered. "When did I give you the idea this was fair? I made the rules-and I want trained dragons!"

"They are trained!" Hiccup protested. "But if you want your men to fly them, then they have to do as they are told! And that means establishing trust, not abusing the poor creatures!" Dagur grabbed his auburn hair and slapped him across the face.

"They do as they are told!" he growled. Hiccup grimaced and his eyes fired up with anger at the unfairness.

"Then you are just gonna have a load of dragons that will sit around and refuse to let your men bond with them!" he snapped. Dagur punched him hard and he crumpled to his knees, his head spinning.

"Then your dragon will pay the price!" Dagur snarled. Hiccup raised his head, his emerald eyes suddenly dark with anger…and he flung himself at the young Berserker Chief. Dagur was a little over four years older than he was-though he was much more built and buff than the skinny Hooligan-but Hiccup was swift and determined and he managed to get Dagur down, raining a flurry of punches on his tormentor. Blood splattered from his nose as Hiccup broke it before Dagur's guards haul the boy off, kicking and fighting.

"No-your men should pay the price!" Hiccup shouted. "They've failed. YOU'VE failed! I'm doing everything you asked…and you are failing because you are too stupid and stubborn to listen! I can train you dragons to help you rule the Archipelago…and all you do is screw it up through your insanity!" A hand slapped over his mouth and he still struggled…until Dagur slowly got to his feet and ferociously backhanded the boy. Hiccup sagged, eyes suddenly filled with worry for Toothless. But he needn't have worried…because Dagur's rage was focussed solely on the boy.

"I think you need to learn some manners…Vorg…have we got something suitable to beat this slave with?" he asked and his Captain walked forward, a nasty expression on his face. Dagur lifted the whip.

"Perfect," he said.

oOo

Astrid couldn't express the feeling of relief she felt when Vuerr, the strange dragon-riding woman in the mask had granted them permission to leave to rescue Hiccup…and she had been utterly shocked that the woman had volunteered to accompany them. In all honesty, that had been an even greater relief because attacking Berserk, even on Stormfly, was going to prove very challenging. Berserk still hunted and killed dragons and they would be in danger/but another dragon would at least help…and maybe provide a diversion that would allow them to sneak in and rescue Hiccup and Toothless.

And she was feeling horribly guilty and worried about her friend, because she knew how badly Hiccup had been treated for years…and that he certainly didn't deserve to be a prisoner of the berserkers when he had tried to get the villagers of Snori away. Chief Leifur had made clear that Hiccup-or Hamish-had tried to fight the attackers and had sent the Chief away-at the expense of his own capture. And though she sent Toothless to support him…because there was no force on Midgard that would keep the Night Fury from his beloved little Viking…she still felt guilt that the dragon had been taken as well.

Henryk touched her arm gently, his bright eyes searching her face, then stirred and sat close by her side. He had thrown his fortunes completely in with hers, pleading to leave the remains of his tribe after his parents and only family had been killed because he trusted the girl who had protected the children from he Berserkers. He had felt terrified as they had been abducted by the stranger and he had been shocked at how brave Astrid had been in defending herself against the accusations of the other woman. He stared at the strange woman: sitting by the fire, her legs folded underneath her, her grey-streaked reddish brown hair braided down her back in a trio of braid, intricately woven. her eyes were a forest green that seemed vaguely familiar.

"Why do you ride a dragon?" he asked the woman, who had given the name Vuerr. Protector. She stared at the boy and sighed.

"Because I have more in common with them than my tribe," she sighed, her voice sad. Astrid stared at her and felt the boy lean against her.

"More in common with dragons than people?" she asked in surprise. Even though he loved dragons, even Hiccup realised he was a person and needed people. This woman was a big step even beyond the level of dragonness that Hiccup espoused. She nodded.

"My home…fourteen years ago…it was a brutal place," she explained softly. "There were constant dragon attacks…kill or be killed…"

 _Sounds like Berk,_ Astrid added silently.

"I kept arguing against fighting the dragons because I could see that it was only making them more aggressive and leading to losses and death: I asked to try another way…but it was a really unpopular view. But I persisted…until one day, a dragon broke into my house. MY…husband was away, leading the fighting…"

"The Chief?" Astrid murmured, frowning. The woman's green eyes flicked up and cooled noticeably.

"He was a great dragon killer…" she murmured. "The dragon was upstairs, bending over my son, my H….baby…and I grabbed a sword…but as I approached…I met the dragon's eyes as he leaned over my child. He wasn't threatening the child…and I saw creature as gentle as intelligent as any human. A soul that matched my own…"

Her voice trailed off and she stared at the flames.

"What happened?" Astrid asked after a few long moments with the only sound the crackling of the fire.

"I-I couldn't kill the dragon," she admitted softly, her eyes focussed on the flames. She picked up a piece of wood and poked aimlessly. "And then my husband arrived and the dragon turned. The tip of his wing caught my son under the lip, cutting his skin. I saw a flash of red, saw blood…and he began to cry. My husband raced in to save him and fire cut me off from them. The dragon…Cloudjumper…" And she glanced up with love in her eyes as she met the owl-faced dragon, which was hanging upside down from the roof. It crooned affectionately and blinked slowly. "Couldjumper took me. he must have recognised a kindred spirit. I was lost there…here I am home. Here…I am free…"

Astrid stared at her with thoughts whirling in her mind. It was a story that begged some very large questions. "What about your husband? Your son?" she asked.

"I realised my hesitation put them in danger," she said, her face closing. "And they would never change. Vikings are dragon killers, incapable of change. So I stayed here, protecting them. rescuing them…"

"But wouldn't they miss you? Grieve for you? Be worse off without you?" Astrid asked.

"They are safer without me," she said coolly.

"But not better," Henryk murmured. "I lost my Mom. I would be heartbroken if I knew she could come back…but didn't choose to…" He stared at the floor. "But she won't. She was killed by Berserkers. I saw her body…her and Dad…" He squeezed his eyes closed and Astrid wrapped an arm around him.

"My friend…Hamish…lost his Mom when he was still a baby in the crib," she said quietly. "It was during a raid-she was taken. And he wasn't better off. he was ignored by a father who never got over losing his wife…maybe blaming him for it. He was bullied and hated by the entire village…but he was still the one who befriended a Night Fury, found out why the dragons were raiding us and defeated the Red Death. He showed us the truth about dragons…it's just Stoick didn't really listen. He was too proud of having him as a…a tribesman that he wanted him restricted to just being shown off to others and he stopped him flying. So he ran…and I helped him."

The woman's eyebrows arched, her green eyes calculating. She could sense there was something the girl was holding back. She rose brusquely.

"Get some sleep," she murmured. "We'll leave at dawn…"

oOo

Hiccup lay curled in the cage with Toothless, hurting. Dagur had been vicious and a dozen lashes now marked his skinny shape along with numberless bruises. But he had fought and cursed until Dagur put him in with his dragon, refusing to do anything until he was allowed to check his friend was safe. So he was tossed in, whimpering in pain and hungry and parched. The Berserkers had thrown him dried bread-slightly mouldy-and a small flask of water while Toothless had been given a single dried fish and his horrible wounds had been slathered with a sticky brownish paste that had the guards smirking.

Toothless gave a small, sad croon and licked the boy gently. Hiccup's breath hitched in pain and his bleary green eyes stared into the big green gaze of the dragon.

"Should've left me," he murmured. "You'd be safer…and he wouldn't have hurt you…" Toothless curled around him. "I know, bud…you could definitely do better then me," he added.

You are my Viking and I love you, the Night Fury said silently. You should not suffer for me, my brother. That evil man will pay for your wounds. A shaking arm rose and Hiccup pulled himself up until he was hugging the dragon's head.

"I will get you out of here," he promised. "No matter what he does to me. You're my only friend, Toothless. I won't let him kill you like he killed Astrid…"

oOo

It was literally freezing when they left the ice nest, wrapped warmly on Stormfly and munching some dried fish and hard bread they had in their packs. Henryk was hugging Astrid tightly, wrapped in his own tunic and one of her sleeping furs. Vuerr was back in her uniform, with the fur-lined tunic, fearsome mast and staff as she stood on the shoulders of the Stormcutter dragon (as she had explained Cloudjumper was). And behind them, a dozen other dragons flapped in an escort of the little party soared south, heading fast and direct for Berserk. It was a long way-but Stormfly was a fast dragon and the Stormcutter was almost as fast. The other dragons were keeping up as Astrid bent low over the Nadder's neck and rested her hand on the warm scaly hide.

"C'mon, Stormfly," she murmured. "Let's get your friend back…"

The dragon squawked anxiously and Astrid felt fear flicker through her heart. It had been days: maybe Hiccup had given up on her, believing that she had betrayed him, had broken her promise to always come for him…and she was coming. She just prayed that he was still alive for her to apologise and make up for taking so long…

oOo

Hiccup was dragged from the cage in the morning, startled and very stiff. Dagur's captain, Vorg, had shoved him some dried yak and forced him to head for the arena even before he had eaten to start training the dragons. The guards were sneering at him and he was buffeted and shoved along cruelly for blaming them for not doing as he asked. His stump was hurting from a rough kick that had bruised it and he was limping badly. And worse, Toothless had been sleepy and his wounds had still remained open and unhealed-though Hiccup knew dragons tended to heal quickly. The dragon had cracked a green eye open wearily and licked him gently with a small croon that had broken Hiccup's heart: he could tell Toothless was suffering. It only filled Hiccup's heart with more and more hatred of Dagur.

In the Arena, he had greeted and checked on the dragons he had trained the previous day. They were still wary, because they were imprisoned and in close proximity to the cruel Berserkers who had tormented and killed their fellows…but they all calmed at the skinny boy with the gentle hands and the reassuring voice and eyes. New dragons were wheeled in for him to train and he wearily trained another four, gaining only a handful of bruises before he turned to them and raised a hand.

"No more," he gasped, leaning forward and resting his hands on his knees. He was breathing hard and he was exhausted. Vorg grabbed him by the hair and hauled him up, hissing in pain as his men summoned Dagur. the Berserker leader arrived almost at a run, his eyes glittering with malice. He grabbed Hiccup's face, thick fingers digging into the bruised flesh and glaring into he suddenly defiant green eyes.

"Vorg tells me you're refusing to train any more dragons?" Dagur said in a dangerously calm voice. The Berserker was taut and breathing hard, alerting Hiccup that the man was at boiling point. The prisoner swallowed worriedly. "You really mustn't care for the dragon at all!" Dagur menaced.

"No, Dagur!" Hiccup replied quickly, his eyes worried. "I never refused-I said no more…"

"Same thing…"

"No, it's not!" the younger Viking argued. "Look, Dagur-you want trained dragons? Then let me train them! Because just touching their noses and then locking them up won't get you a dragon you can ride or a dragon your fight with! Let me consolidate with the ones I've started first so they will be able to start with riders…and then I'll start some more…"

"And how long will that take?" the Berserker Chief asked harshly. Hiccup gulped.

"A-a couple of days…" Please, give me that time to train them so they will come with me…

"Too long!" The pressure on his face grew and he tried not to flinch. "You have until the end of the day-and then you will train me more dragons!" He nodded and Vorg threw the boy to the ground, kicking at him cruelly. His head snapped up and the wider green eyes narrowed in a momentarily angry look at odds with Hiccup's usual expression. Vorg kicked him again.

"I'll be watching you, brat!" he threatened and walked away, leaving Hiccup on his knees in the arena with the dragons. Slowly, he got to his feet and unbolted the cages, letting the dragons out one at a time. Talking gently and stroking the dragons. Hiccup calmed them and gradually began to bond with them, getting them to follow and allow him to sit on their backs. He managed to get most of them off the ground and concentrated on the amber and jade Nadder he had trained first, training her with techniques he saw Astrid use with success with Stormfly…and trying to ignore the pain even that thought brought him. He sighed and leaned forward, stroking the dragon on the back of her head, swallowing.

"It's okay," he said roughly. "You remind me of someone special…don't worry…I'll get you out of here…"

The amber and jade Nadder gave a little caw and shuffled her feet…as the gates of the Arena slammed open and a new cage was wheeled in. Vorg sneered at the boy as the next dragon was pushing in, trapped in her cage.

"Better get this one trained…otherwise, I reckon I'm owed a pair of Night Fury skin arm-guards," Vorg menaced him, earning him another glare from the boy. "Did that upset you, fishbone? What ya gonna do? Oooh! I'm scared!" He laughed at the boy and slammed the door closed behind him as Hiccup slid off the amber and jade Nadder, petting her gently and leading her to the far side of the arena with the others as he turned his attention to the newly arrived dragon.

It was another Nadder, a blue and gold one cawing agitatedly in the cage, her spiny frill raised and tail spines readied. She shook her head and Hiccup swung the door open wearily, already rehearsing in his mind the words he would need to calm her, to soothe her, to befriend her…

He stared up into the face, expecting terror and agitation…but he met a pair of calm and friendly yellow eyes. His own green eyes widened in utter shock.

"Stormfly?"

oOo

The single guard on the Night Fury cage was bored. Being a Berserker seemed to work fine if you were one of the favoured men on the Armada but everyone else seemed to get stuck with very boring jobs. And guard duty totally sucked. The young Berserker had bought into Dagur's vision of battle, destruction, glory…and standing watch over an almost comatose dragon didn't really match up to any part of that vision.

His relief walked up confidently and his attention snapped back to the present. The newcomer gave a small salute and gestured to the dragon.

"Any change?" The guards started: the relief was a girl, her voice firm and professional, the armour flattering her slim shape. A blonde braid poked from under the enclosing helmet and a pair of bright azure eyes peered into his. The guard shrugged.

"Not very lively," he reported. "The Chief wanted it subdued…and whatever they've given it seems to have worked. Its wounds remain open and it can barely open its eyes."

"Good," she murmured. "And the prisoner isn't due back for some time?" The guard nodded.

"The Chief will have him train more dragons for the new Dragon Armada!" the guard reported proudly.

"For the glory of Berserk!" the girl agreed, her voice thoughtful. The guard frowned.

"I haven't heard of girls being allowed in the army," he said with a hint of jealousy but she picked up the tone of his voice and smirked.

"The Chief wants every strong arm to help the glorious Berserker destiny!" she told him wryly. "He has no qualms about killing women and children and he's said he will let women fight and kill as well." The guard looked sceptical. "Well, I'm here, aren't I? Ready to take guard duty?" The guard nodded, sighed and handed the keys over, the walked off for his meal, shaking his head. _How was he ever getting on the front line when Dagur was even allowing girls to join the Berserker Guard?_

As she watched him walked away, Astrid suppressed the instinctive sigh of relief. She took her station by the cage and watched for a few moments…and then turned to the lock and swiftly unfastened it. The dragon barely lifted his head but his ear-flaps twitched as she moved to his side.

"Toothless!" she said softly. She gently extended her hand and stroked his nose gently, her eyes flicking over the horrible open wounds on his body and the sticky and acrid-smelling paste smeared over them. Toothless whined slightly as he moved and she instinctively wiped the excess off. She smelled it and frowned: it smelled bitter…and that usually meant poisonous. "Come on," she murmured. "We need to get you out of here. Stormfly is here…and a friend…but Hiccup won't come if you are still a prisoner."

Toothless gave a little shiver but heard the urgency in her words and staggered to his feet. He gave a pained whine but she gently led him out and whistled. Henryk trotted round the corner, struggling with the saddle and tail assembly. Astrid nodded and set him to watch as she unfolded the tail assembly and laid it out. She had watched Hiccup fit this every day since they had run and she knew she should know how to put it on…but he was deft and very smart and had invented and built the thing while she had just been watching… She closed her eyes, pictured him smiling and chatting tot he eager and playful dragon as he chased him with the saddle and tail…and began to fasten the equipment to the whimpering dragon.

"I'm sorry, Toothless," she murmured gently as she tightened the saddle straps and slid the gearing around his left shoulder. "I know it's sore…but as soon as this is on, we can get out of here…" She stared at the assembly, took a deep breath…then slowly climbed into the saddle. She put her heel on the control pedal and saw the tail open. She leaned forward. "Henryk…" she called. "Time to go." The boy raced to her side and clambered warily behind her. Toothless gave a small growl and she felt the boy tighten his grip around her. "Okay, Toothless-let's find Hiccup," she said.

oOo

Dagur was pacing back and forth, happily imagining a flight of dragons, swooping down pouring flaming death on the weak and the undeserving. In his daydream, he saw Nadders swooping round, spines impaling enemies as they fled in terror; Monstrous Nightmares pouring flames on unprotected homes and civilians alike and Zipplebacks breathing gas all over the village and igniting glorious explosions. And, of course, Dagur flapping above all the beautiful carnage on the back of the Night Fury…

He was snapped back to reality by the sounds of screams and roars and the explosion of dragonfire. He snatched his sword and raced outside…to see a group of dragons, wheeling around and raking fire on the cells, the group led by a rider standing on a four-winged dragon and directing the dragons using a long, curved-ended staff. His blank, painted mask as alien and Dagur screamed and stabbed his sword in her direction.

"DESTROY HIM!" he roared.

oOo

Hiccup pressed his hand against Stormfly's nose, his fingers curling gently against the familiar face, his eyes shining at the sight of Astrid's beloved dragon. He took a shuddering breath and rested the other hand on her jaw.

"Hi, girl," he murmured, forcing a small smile on his face. "How did you get here? I haven't seen you before and I was sure I'd seen every dragon they had…" She cawed gently, croaking a reassuring chirp. He glanced around the Arena, then scrambled onto her back, feeling the play of her muscles under his body. He leaned forward. "Do you think that you can get them to follow me?" he murmured and she craned her neck…then gave a little chirp.

"Up…" he said firmly and she flapped to hover above the ground, her powerful legs hanging freely, claws relaxed. She gave a small shriek and all the other dragons rose to her command. He gave a small smile…and felt her respond happily, a purring caw shivering through her as she hovered facing opposite al the other dragons, peacefully matching her movements. And he wondered…how did Stormily get here? And why wasn't she heartbroken? He tightened his grasp on her neck.

"C'mon, girl…let's get out of here…" he said and they spun to flap slowly towards the gates of the Arena…

…to have Dagur, Vorg and a score of Berserkers all rush in, weapons raised and lightly scorched.

"HICCUP!" Dagur screamed. "What have you done?" The boy blinked.

"What have I done?" he echoed. "Dagur, you kidnapped me and my dragon, beat me, tortured us both and finally forced me to train your dragons. What exactly am I supposed to have done?"

Sounds of explosions echoed through the Arena and Hiccup could see the golden-orange reflections of flames beyond the walls. And the roars of dragons. He frowned and stared at Dagur.

"Where's Toothless?" he demanded. Dagur grabbed his bola.

"Gone!" he shouted. "What have you done with him?" Hiccup stared, seeing him begin to whirl the weapon above his head. The young rider kicked Stormily up and leaned close to her.

"Stormfly…spine shot!" he shouted as she launched a volley of spines, sending Dagur diving sideways, the bola spilling from his hands. His men scattered and the dragons behind Hiccup all rose, pupils narrowing and preparing for battle. The young prisoner faced Dagur, his green eyes narrowed with hatred. "WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH TOOTHLESS?" he shouted. Dagur rolled to a crouch, his eyes feral and almost foaming at the mouth.

"You attacked me…" he shouted back. "When I get my hands on you, I'm chopping off your OTHER leg!" He looked at his men. "ATTACK!"

And then a whistling sound screeched overhead, followed by a purple explosion that blasted the barred roof apart. Hiccup's head snapped up in shock as a black shape whipped by, lancing a further blast to extend the gap. There was a loud roar and all the dragons rose as one, flapping desperately for freedom…and Stormfly rose too, her wings pumping steadily as she shot up. But she screeched as a bola tangled her wing and she plummeted down.

Another blast tossed Dagur back and Stormfly ripped her wing free, shooting upwards towards the hovering black shape. Hiccup'e eyes widened in shock as he saw Toothless flying, his saddle and tail back on…a slender Berserker guard sitting confidently in the saddle with a young boy hanging onto his back. The Berserker jerked his head sideways and Hiccup followed dumbly, knowing he would need a good explanation…but all he wanted was to get away. He glanced up to check 'his' dragons were safe…and they were all flying steadily away. And then he stared up in shock, seeing Vuerr with her mask and outfit on, standing on top of Cloudjumper's shoulders…but to Hiccup, it was utterly shocking. The Stormcutetr was much larger than Stormfly or Toothless and he had never seen a four-winged dragon before. His jaw dropped.

"We need to get away from here first!" the small Berserker called and his head snapped round, recognising the firm female voice he had despaired at never hearing again.

"As…Ast…" he mouthed.

"NOW!" Astrid snapped and she leaned, directing Toothless back towards their home. Stormfly instantly followed her friend and her beloved Rider and Hiccup just held on, feeling light-headed with shock and relief…

…and curiosity, he admitted to himself as they flew fast across the Archipelago towards their little haven. Astrid wasn't slowing and the stranger wasn't talking, crouched on the four-winged dragon's shoulders as they easily kept pace. The freed Berserker dragons were happily flying along after them, floating around and among some strange wild dragons that seemed to be following the strange masked dragon rider. Dagur had deployed catapults at the escaping riders and they had come close…but the four-winged dragon had shot a couple of large boulders from the sky and brought up the rearguard.

They could see the island int he distance and Hiccup was growing more and more worried about Toothless. The dragon looked exhausted, every wing-beat an effort and his head and ear-flaps were drooping. the young man got the Nadder to fly alongside, his eyes worriedly sweeping over his dragon. The raw wounds sent guilt and horror through his body and he felt sick at the sight.

"Toothless!" he shouted. "I'm here, bud!"

The Night Fury perked up a little, his green eyes flicking to look at his little viking and he gave a small roar of happiness.

"I know…but it's not far, buddy," he encouraged Toothless and the dragon redoubled his efforts to make the island. He was slowly drifting lower and lower, his efforts more and more desperate…but they were nearly at the coast…as Toothless finally glided in and landed heavily on the shore, his head slumping into the damp black sands. Astrid threw off her Berserker helmet and leapt off, crouching by Toothless's head and staring into his dulled eyes. The young fair-haired boy stood by her as Stormily landed and Hiccup leapt off, running to his dragon and dropping to his knees, his face stricken.

"Toothless," he cried and was rewarded by a very tiny croon from the weary Night Fury, his eyes flicking up and ears pricking very slightly. "Oh, I am so sorry…"

"No, it was my fault," Astrid said quietly. "I sent him to rescue you when the Berserkers attacked…while I took the kids away to safety…" He lifted his eyes-and then flung himself on her, arms wrapping fiercely around her, his face buried in her neck.

"Astrid," he said roughly, holding her tight. "Thank Thor you're alive. He said…I thought…oh Gods…" Her arms wrapped tightly around him as well and though he suffered at the pressure on his lashes, he just basked for an eternity-long moment on her arms, before they reluctantly broke apart.

"I'm sorry I was so long," she murmured but he managed a small smile.

"No…you came, as you promised," he sighed, then turned back to Toothless. The dragon had closed his eyes again and his breathing was laboured. "What's happened to Toothless?"

The strange rider walked closer and her dragon gave a small coo. The stranger jerked his masked head and he turned to look at his dragon. There was a short silence.

"He has been poisoned," he said.


	45. Chapter Forty-Five

**Forty-Five:**

Hiccup's face fell, his green eyes widening in shock and horror. Trembling hands stroked the smooth face, feeling the unevenness of the small scales on the nose and he stared at the semi-conscious beast.

"P-poisoned?" he murmured. "How-how?" The tall stranger walked forward, crouching by the raw wounds and tilting his head at the brown paste smeared on the wounds, his hands stretching out and wiping a little of the paste off. Toothless gave a small whine as Hiccup curled around his bowed head, hugging him fiercely. Veurr sniffed the paste and then shook her head, still concealed in the mask. Sighing, she lifted her mask and very cautiously tasted the paste with the tip of her tongue: she spat it you instantly.

"Balder's Bane," she said as Hiccup looked up in shock, realising the tall stranger was a woman. His worried green eyes inspected her, seeing the long braided dark auburn-brown hair, lightly streaked with grey and a pale, serious face.

"In the paste?" he realised. She nodded, her green eyes meeting his.

"It's an old recipe," she murmured. "The Dragon Manual make it clear that Balder's Bane…mistletoe…is able to prevent dragon wounds from healing…and is very poisonous to them. Almost as poisonous as Blue Oleander…" Hiccup stared at her then looked up at Astrid.

"He…lied…" he said in shocked realisation. "Gods…he lied! We-we had a deal…but all the time they kept his wounds open…and he was poisoning him! He promised…"

"Is there a cure?" Astrid asked, crouching by the furious boy. Veurr nodded, her hands gently stroking the dragon's warm flanks.

"Yes-a simple mixture of Starberry, yak foot leaves, golden grass, spring water and Loki Tree bark."

"Oh, thank Thor," Hiccup breathed in relief and Astrid nodded. There was a pause as the woman looked over to the two teens.

"You don't understand, do you?" Astrid shook her head. "There's only one place that Loki Trees grow on," she explained grimly. "Outcast Island."

oOo

They had moved Toothless to the caves and lit a warm fire. Hiccup had been silent as he had heard the horrible news and as he had struggled to come to terms with Dagur's betrayal and Toothless's condition. Limping badly, he had followed them up to the caves and sat by his dragon as Veurr settled the Night Fury down and brewed a small bowl of potion from ingredients in her pouch. The brew that resulted smelled foul but which stopped Toothless whimpering and allowed him to settle into a sleep.

While Veurr walked outside, Hiccup looked up, his eyes filled with raw self-loathing. "I did this," he said quietly. Astrid, who had dumped her packs by her space, turned in a second, staring at the slumped shape.

"Hiccup…Dagur did this," she told him firmly, walking calmly over and sitting on her heels by him. He remained still and frozen, staring into the fire, his bruised face filled with guilt.

"No…I-I should've been braver," he murmured. "But…but I thought you were dead." She blinked, hearing the slight inflection in his voice. His words had grown noticeably thicker and his eyes were shining.

"Why did you think that, Hiccup?" she asked him gently. He swallowed.

"After the battle, after I fought him and Toothless fought him and we-we lost, after Snori fell and everyone was hacked down…he told me they had caught you," he said quietly, his voice almost toneless. "He said…he said they had r-raped y-you and th-then k-killed y-you…" She saw his throat work and she inched closer to him, knowing that he was still wary of her and that he had clearly suffered badly in his captivity. Quietly, she reached out and took his left hand in her right one, feeling the fingers curl around hers. He was trembling.

"Hiccup…I'm fine," she assured him. "I'm more worried about you…"

"But he said you were dead," he repeated quietly. "And I…I kept imagining his men…hurting you…killing you…and I was useless to help. I was just…Useless…" She pulled him round to face her and wrapped her arms around him, feeling him clutch her close, his face burying into her neck.

"He had you. He had Toothless," she murmured into his ear. "You did what you had to survive."

"I-I thought he was the only thing I had left," he whispered. "And when they were torturing him…when Dagur tore his skin off to make armour…I couldn't let him suffer any more. So I agreed to train dragons for him…"

Her grip around him tightened, the hitch in her breath signifying her horror. "Hiccup?" She hadn't the heart to chastise him…because he knew every reason why that was wrong…but none of them mattered anywhere near as much as the reason why he had to comply. He burrowed his face into her neck again.

"But I stalled as much as I could," he admitted. "I befriended all those dragons who followed us…but the Berserkers didn't pay attention. They were still cruel to them, still locked them up. And the dragons didn't trust them. They only trusted me…and I did everything I could to get them to follow me…so I could break Toothless out and leave…"

"I know," she murmured.

"Are you sure you're okay?" he whispered worriedly. She nodded.

"You're not," she realised, seeing blood stains on the back of his tunic. Her hands slid up to stroke his dishevelled hair and she gently forced him to lift his shamed green eyes so she could look at him. "Show me…" And he did, wordlessly stripping off his ripped and stained tunic and allowing her to gently bathe and salve his wounds. He just sat silently, occasionally hissing in pain and staring into the flames. "Hiccup," she asked cautiously after a while as she was nearly finished. "What would you have done? I mean…when you escaped?"

He stared for a long time into the fire and a tear slid down his battered cheek. When he spoke, his voice was filled with utter shame.

"I would have killed him and razed Berserk to the ground," he said.

oOo

He was in his spare tunic, wrapped in a blanket and resting against the sleeping Toothless when Veurr returned but he still looked pensive and worried. The older woman sat a few feet away, staring into the flames and then stealing a few glances at the skinny boy.

"You came from Berk?" she asked softly. Hiccup blinked.

"Um, yeah," he admitted, staring back at her and frowning. "You know Berk?" She stared at the fire for a long moment.

"A long time ago," she admitted and for a second, there was a surge of hope in his heart. Maybe she knew his Mom? Maybe she could tell him something…anything…about the parent he had missed his entire life and knew pretty much nothing about. "I try not to think about it at all. It was a difficult place to live. Vikings and dragons at war. Kill or be killed. An almost impossible home for someone who realised dragons were more than they seemed, that they weren't what we thought. That they were gentle, intelligent creatures with souls as gentle and loving as our own."

He stared at the fire and sighed.

"You are lucky, Hamish," she told him. "You finally have peace!"

"Yeah," he said tonelessly. Peace I fought for despite being disowned and broken, peace that cost me my leg and almost my life. Peace that my Dad wants to exploit for his own glory… "But it didn't last. Somehow, I managed to ruin it…and then we were driven from Berk."

"By Stoick?" The woman's voice was sharp.

"He…well, I disappointed him and Astrid rescued me," he admitted wearily. "I go back and he'll imprison me and stop me ever flying again. And he will kill Astrid." Veurr turned to face him, her eyes wide in shock.

"He's got worse," she murmured. "No, I was right not to return…but my son…" She stared at the boy and her eyes softened: he was about the right age…but the girl had said Hiccup had been driven from Berk. Her gaze flicked to the skinny, auburn-haired boy, laying against the Night Fury, a dragon he had surrendered to save. "You…you could always come with me," she said. Hiccup's forest green gaze flicked up.

"Not without Toothless," he murmured, breathing slowly. "I can't do any of this without him…"

"I live in a Nest, under the protection of the great Bewilderbeast, the King of all dragons," she told the boy, seeing his eyes look up with a flicker of interest. Hiccup's face creased in a frown, his green eyes wary. "I protect dragons."

"Protector," he murmured, the corner of his mouth tilting up just a fraction. "How?" She paused.

"I save them from trappers and hunters," she explained. "I free them from being caged and exploited. I cut them from traps. I raid their strongholds and fortresses. I bring them to the nest, to be loved. Everything I need is there. Everything I want is there. I need nothing from Vikings or other tribes. I could live my whole life in the nest, saving dragons…and I sense in you, another person who loves and understands dragons as I do. I could welcome you, teach you…together we could explore and learn all there is to know about dragons. Leave this place-and join me!"

Hiccup stole a glance at Astrid, seeing her tense and wary. There was something more going on here, something he couldn't ask her in front of the woman, Veurr. And he knew they needed Veurr's help with Toothless…but he only trusted Astrid. And he was still completely in shock and relief that she was alive…tempered with utter despair at Toothless's state. He could feel the Night Fury breathing, the rate slightly uneven, the thud of the dragon's heart faster than usual.

"I-I don't have the words," he said softly. "I would like to visit the nest, if I may, to see your dragons and the Bewilderbeast…once Toothless is better…but I can't promise that I will want to stay. Because I have lived my whole life on Berk, confined to a small and isolated island in the middle of nowhere. But now I have a dragon and though I am a marked man, I want more than a single nest or a cave in the middle of the sea. I want to travel with my friends, to see new places and new dragons. To meet new people…and learn new things. I don't want to promise my future away when I haven't had a chance to even imagine it…"

For a fleeting instant, he saw disappointment and regret on the woman's face…before it closed and her expression blanked once more. "I…understand…" she said coolly. "Now excuse me. Cloudjumper wants to feed…and it's a long flight to Outcast island in the morning." She rose swiftly and stalked out, a tall and determined figure, her grey-streaked braids bobbing behind her as she vanished. Hiccup stared after her and then sighed.

"And I disappointed another one," he sighed gently. "You don't trust her, do you?" She sighed slowly.

"She doesn't trust us," she revealed cautiously "She believed our dragons were prisoners against their will or brainwashed. She doesn't like humans. And she will always choose a dragon over people. She only helped because you had Toothless…" She inched closer and sat at his side.

"Yeah…hope that continues," he said bleakly. She gently touched his arm.

"Hiccup-we will get that bark and he'll be fine," she reassured him. He looked up at her, his eyes shocked. "Hiccup-I thought I had lost you and him. I'm not losing Toothless now I've finally got you both back," she said sternly. "Stormfly isn't losing her friend either." He closed his eyes and curled against her, his arms wrapping around her. She felt his shaking breaths and hugged him back.

"I thought you were dead," he groaned. "And it was my fault. It was all my fault…" He sighed as she stared into his appalled face: he was exhausted. They all were and what Hiccup needed now was warmth, rest and security. Carefully and mindful of his wounds, she helped him lie down, then pulled the fur over him. She made to crawl back to her own place but his arm reached out and he whispered: "Astrid…please…"

She paused, seeing the plea in his pained green eyes. What had he imagined in response to Dagur's words? What horrific nightmares had he suffered, imagining her damned fate? She knew he had more nightmares than he deserved and this was the closest he would come to begging her to sleep by him, to hold him: she nodded. Reaching over, she grabbed a blanket, then smiled at Henryk, who was watching the two older teens warily. "Henryk-do you want to sleep against Stormfly tonight?" The boy's eyes widened.

"I-I'm allowed?" he murmured.

"I'd let you sleep against Toothless, except he's sick at the moment," Hiccup told him softly. "He likes people. They'll look after you. We'll look after you…" But his eyes were filled with a silent plea as he stared up at Astrid, as she carefully lay down next to him, feeling the skinny, battered boy fidget until he was pressed against her and then she twitched the fur over them both.

"I'm here," she whispered and his eyes closed.

"I'm glad you're safe…" he murmured as he dropped asleep.

oOo

They were up at dawn, when Veurr, who had slept outside with her dragon, woke them to go to Outcast Island. Toothless was no better and no worse, barely rousable but happy to lick his little viking and drink the unpleasant mixture Veurr brewed to slow down the effects of the poison. The woman was back in her hooded warm tunic and mask, her staff swinging in her hand as Hiccup and Astrid mounted Stormfly. Henryk reluctantly agreed to keep Toothless company and feed him further portions of the Veurr's potion as required. Part of the boy wanted to go with them…but part was scared of more adventures and was happy to remain in the safety of the cave.

Stormfly shot up into the air with Astrid in the saddle, Hiccup seated behind her, his arms wrapped tightly around her. It felt weird not to be flying Toothless-but he knew this was for his best friend. And a part of his being was very apprehensive…because he knew the Outcasts were very dangerous foes of Berk. His father and Gobber had often talked about Alvin the Treacherous, Chief of the Outcasts, a brutal and sadistic man who bore a particular grudge against the Chief who had exiled him from Berk. It was debatable whether he would hand over Hiccup if he caught him…or just try to use him for himself. Either way, his best option was remaining anonymous and getting in and out as quickly as possible.

He could feel Astrid tense as the jagged outline of the island appeared in the distance mid-morning. Veurr remained silent and uncommunicative, crouched on the Stormcutter's shoulders. Hiccup had tried asking a few questions about her dragon and the nest but he had been met by blank looks and monosyllabic answers: it seemed she had decided he wasn't worth bothering with because he hadn't jumped at the opportunity to join her in her crusade to save all dragons from the evil of humanity…even when not all humanity was evil…

And worse, even the limited Chief training Hiccup had been given hadn't covered the Outcasts-because no one dealt with them of choice: they were a menace all Chiefs knew but none embraced. They were really in Veurr's hands.

"Down, girl," Astrid murmured, guiding her dragon lower and hoping a low glide over the sea would hide them from casual observation. The larger Stormcutter matched her and the woman stole a glance at the determined blonde girl and the brave little Nadder, speeding onwards to the island to save her friend's dragon. She had forgotten what human friendship was like, forgotten the banter and casual interaction people could have between them. There was a brief pang in her chest as she watched the boy wrap his arms around the girl, watched her lips tilt however briefly at his closeness and her turn her head a little to speak with him.

The boy looked vaguely familiar as well…and he seemed interested in dragons. Veurr almost regretted blanking him…but she couldn't understand how someone who plainly loved dragons could ever turn down her offer…could ever want to chose humans over dragons…but he had…

Leaning low over Cloudjumper's neck, she saw the Nadder soar up over the precipitous cliffs of the jagged volcanic landscape…and wondered where they would find the trees. The whole place looked as if it had been scorched, the blackened landscape devoid of any life…no bushes, no grass…and no trees.

Hiccup's grip tightened on Astrid as his forest green gaze scanned the barren landscape. "There's nothing here," he whispered, his heart jolting in his chest. "How can I save Toothless if there are no trees?"

"There will be trees," Astrid said steadfastly. "Outcast Island is as big as Berk, if not bigger. We must just be in the wrong part…" He calmed himself: he could do this for Toothless. Gods, Astrid was the one who was to be killed on sight! If she was willing to come here and risk everything, he certainly could.

"LOOK OUT!" Veurr's shout alerted them and Astrid threw Stormfly into a tight barrel roll, narrowly missing a net that raced past their heads. There were shouts below and Hiccup glimpsed men in Viking outfits, shooting bolas and loading net launchers which were being fired at the dragon. Which confused him…because as far as he knew, the Outcasts still hunted dragons and saw them as enemies…so why would they be trying to catch them, rather than kill them…?

"That way!" he shouted, pointing to the left and Astrid immediately banked Stormfly down, behind a ridge and into the gulley. "Go straight ahead," he murmured. "We can lose them in these galleys!" Astrid nodded, leaning low over Stormfly's neck as Hiccup craned his neck-to see the Stormcutter hovering overhead.

"You okay?" she called. He nodded.

"Um…do you know what a Loki tree looks like?" he asked her and she shrugged.

"Um, Hiccup…you know my experience with trees ends at throwing axes at them, don't you?" she reminded him.

"Maybe we should have brought Fishlegs," Hiccup suggested. "He reads a lot…and he loves his plants…" Astrid gave a small smile.

"You know he helped me when you were back on Berk?" she asked and he smiled.

"He helped me too," he admitted. "He came to see me…and he kept me going long enough to wait for you…" She stiffened and took shuddering breath, gently leaning to her right to guide Stormfly through another fork and chicane in the gulley.

"Hiccup," she said quietly. "Promise me…you will never think about that again. Remember…always remember…I will come for you. Don't leave me, okay?" He gave a small smile.

"I'm never leaving you," he promised, tightening his arms around here. "But it would be nice to get out of this gulley…" Suddenly, Astrid dragged Stormfly back, the Nadder's indignant screech echoing through the gulley as she faced a blank wall, hovering agitatedly. "Go up," Hiccup called and Astrid pulled the dragon up, zipping out of the gulley and out into a flat plain with a ridge on the far side…with the shapes of skeletal trees silhouetted against the iron-grey sky.

"There!" Astrid said and accelerated Stormfly straight at them, the Stormcutter falling behind. Hiccup glanced back at the larger dragon, seeing the rider warily scan the plain for signs of life even as the Nadder sped low over the blackened landscape. Part of Hiccup wanted Astrid to hurry up so they could return and cure Toothless…but the other part, the part that had been devastated by news of the loss of Astrid, was scared that they were rushing headlong into trouble.

"Slow down," he called.

"Yeah-mister Night Fury rider!" she teased him."Don't see you slowing down for anything!"

"We don't know what's beyond that ridge!" he warned her urgently. "There could be Outcasts or…"

"Calm down!" she called back, her eyes focussed on the dark trees ahead. "We're Vikings! We don't fear anything!"

"I fear plenty of things!" Hiccup reminded her. She bit her lip, forcing herself not to remind him that he wasn't a typical Viking…but she felt him sigh against her. "But we both know I'm not a typical viking, don't we?" he admitted.

"I feared I'd lost you," Astrid murmured, more to herself than anyone else as they soared up by the trees and set down. In a flash, she was on the ground, her axe off her back and racing at the tree. Hiccup watched her slack thick slices of the blackened bark from the nearest tree…and then she pulled a face and gagged. Hiccup jumped down and ran to her.

"Are you alright?" he asked, his voice worried. She nodded, leaning away from the tree…and as he closed, he smelled the most appalling stench, emanating from the naked trunk.

"Eurgh!" she coughed, covering her mouth. "That tree smells like it died about a year ago!" Hiccup grabbed the slices of bark, choked at the smell and stuffed them in Stormfly's saddlebags. The Nadder squawked in alarm at the horrible smell but Astrid turned and tried to reassure her. "Easy, girl," she coughed. "We need that for your friend, Toothless. C'mon, girl-we're warriors…we can cope with this!" Hiccup gave a small smile at her stoicism as he fastened the straps to the saddle bags and clambered onto her dragon's back.

"Astrid…" he called, warning her as she turned back, just taking one last strip for insurance… She looked up, seeing his anxiety. Something moved overhead and Veurr zoomed low and screamed a warning:

"CATAPULTS!"

Instantly, Astrid was in the saddle as missiles shot overhead. As they rose up, they peered down the slope, seeing a forest of dead Loki trees…and a patrol of Outcasts, their catapults raking the ridge with the two intruders on. A missile glanced Astrid and she was ripped from Hiccup's grasp, bouncing to the floor-and rolling all the way down the ridge, among more skeletal trees and ending in a heap at the bottom.

"ASTRID!" he shouted, leaning forward the steady himself against Stormfly. She gave a despairing squawk and hovered uncertainly. There was nowhere to land amid the densely knotted branches of the trees, no way down at all the the forest floor through the tangled trees as far as the eye could see. But as they looked, Astrid stirred, slowly lifting her head and staring up as the Outcasts reached her and surrounded her. Her axe had been knocked from her grasp and lay yards away-too far to be of use. Her gaze locked on the approaching Outcasts.

"Hiccup-GO!" she shouted. "Get that back to Toothless! GO!"

"I can't leave you!" he shouted as she was grabbed by the first Outcast. She struggled but she was still stunned from her fall and swiftly overpowered.

"You can come back!" she shouted. "Hiccup! GO already!"

Stormfly gave a despairing screech as Veurr hovered low, her dragon's four wings beating hard to flap away the hail of missiles around them.

"Listen to your friend!" she shouted. "You can come back for her…"

"You only care about dragons!" he shouted.

"Your dragon is dying-and you have the means to save him," Veurrr told him bluntly. "She's been made a prisoner. You can come back!"

"HICCUP! GO!" Astrid screamed as a hand was slapped over her mouth and she was bound in ropes. Hating himself and praying to Thor and Odin that she would be safe until he returned, he dragged Stormfly into a climb and with a sorrowful squawk, she flew away, leaving her Rider behind.

But as they accelerated away, Veurr stared at the skinny boy and her eyes narrowed.

_Hiccup?_


	46. Chapter Forty-Six

**Forty-Six:**

Hiccup spent the entire flight back bent forward over Stormfly’s neck, feeling the wings pumping hard as the brave Nadder sped as fast as she could back to their island. The icy wind in his eyes had them stinging and he concentrated hard on the feel of flying, the wind in his face and the stinging of his eyes…because it was better by far than allowing the hollow guilt in his stomach to overwhelm him. And even though Astrid had shouted at him to go, he knew she was in terrible danger.

Veurr hadn’t said a single word on the flight back, for which Hiccup was grateful. He was feeling horribly as if he would scream at the woman for talking him into returning with the Loki tree bark but without Astrid. Because though obtaining the bark been the point of the whole mission, he didn’t need to be told he had made the right decision. Astrid had saved him, over and over-Berk, Snori, Berserk..and he had repaid her by abandoning her to her fate.

Eventually the island appeared out of the twilight gloom, the jagged mountain gilded gold and purple in the last light of sunset and Hiccup dived Stormfly down into the entrance. The Nadder gave a welcoming squawk as they swooped into the cave system but there was no answering roar from the Night Fury: Hiccup felt his stomach tighten with fear at the silence. They flapped to a halt as they made their way into the main chamber, so find Toothless lying unconscious by a small fire tended by Henryk. The boy was talking quietly to the dragon…though his eyes widened in shock and relief as they returned…until he realised who was missing. He scrambled up.

“Where’s Astrid?” he demanded. Hiccup ignored him.

“Toothless? Bud?” he called, scrambling from the saddle the moment Stormfly touched down. The Nadder gave a sad caw as her head bowed and the younger boy ran forward to rub her nose-horn.

“Stormfly-where’s Astrid?” Henryk whispered. The dragon gave a sad chirp as Veurr jumped down from the Stormcutter, the owl-faced dragon leaning close to the sad Nadder and giving her a little nudge.

“She was captured,” she said, pulling her mask off. “We had to leave her to get back here and cure Toothless…”

“You left her?” Henryk shouted, turning to Hiccup, who was on his knees, stroking the barely-rousable Toothless. “How could you?” The auburn-haired boy lifted his head and turned his forest green gaze on the younger boy, the self-recrimination bright in his face.

“Because we both knew that we had to get this back to Toothless to save his life,” he said softly. “Astrid shouted at me to go. We both know the whole thing is a waste of time if we don’t get the bark to Toothless.” Hiccup stared up at the woman. “Can you make that potion now?”

Staring at him calculatingly, Veurr fished out Starberries, yak foot leaves and golden grass from her packs and went to the stream running through the mountain to pick some fresh spring water. Hiccup remained looking steadfastly at Toothless, refusing to answer the scowling Henryk. The younger boy remained by Stormfly, watching as the woman ground up the absolutely foul smelling bark and stirred it into the brew. It bubbled for an inordinately long time, the stench filling the gloom before Veurr finally deemed it ready for use. Staring up into the green eyes, Hiccup looked uncertain but the woman offered a thin smile before lifting the bowl. Toothless barely stirred, even though the boy knew Night Furies had an excellent sense of smell and it would have detected the stink with ease.

“Come on, bud,” he begged softly. “I know it smells kinda bad but really, you do need to drink this. It’s make you feel heaps better.” Toothless gave a small sigh, not even a croon. “Toothless…please…for me…you gotta fight, bud. You-you can’t give up. Please don’t leave me now we’re finally away from Dagur. Please…” He felt his eyes burning with tears and the dragon smelled the salty scent. He could hear the hitch in his little Viking’s voice and though everything hurt and his mind was foggy and dull, he wanted to stay. And if his viking wanted him to drink the horrible liquid, he would try.

Slowly, Toothless opened his wide mouth and Hiccup gently poured the while bowlful in, massaging the dragon’s throat and seeing him swallow the foul gloop. Giving a weary sigh, the dragon’s eyes closed again and Hiccup curled by the dragon, resting his head against the warm and wounded flanks. Henyrk was curled against Stormfly, having fed the anxious Nadder a couple of large fish, staring at Hiccup. The younger boy barely knew the auburn-haired boy, except as Astrid’s friend, the friend she was going to save when she helped the villagers of Snori. And the younger boy had barely any interaction with him when they arrived back…and now he had abandoned Astrid. Henryk had no idea what to think…but he was blaming Hiccup for everything.

Veurr stared at the two young men and leaned close to the auburn haired boy. “He will sleep for a while…but I need a word with you,” she said. Hiccup looked up…and then shook his head.

“We need to rest…and then we go back to rescue Astrid,” he said firmly, closing his eyes. Veurr leaned closer.

“I think we need to talk now…Hiccup,” she said.

oOo

Outcast Island was bleak and cold, the landscape made of cooled volcanic flows, uneven and cracked with gulleys and canyons. Irregular ridges were half-crumbled from the scouring winds and populated by wild dragons, squabbling and fighting at random. Astrid was being hauled along by the patrol of Outcasts, her wrists roped firmly behind her. The patrol was heavily armed and very short on conversation, a disparate collection of grim and scarred men who moved swiftly and purposefully across the jagged landscape with their young prisoner.

The main settlement was on the south-east corner of the island, a motley collection of heavy stone building half-mated with the precipitous mountain, a steep zig-zag path winding up to the main square with a dragon ring and barracks. Astrid trudged up, flanked by her guards looking for possible escape routes, places to hide and layout…but there were Outcasts everywhere. And she wrinkled their nose: they smelled bad, rank and rotten, their armour stiff with sweat and other things. Her nose wrinkled and she slowed, earning herself a hefty shove in the back…before she was dragged before a huge man, standing arrogantly in the centre of the Dragon Kill Ring. Astrid inspected him: he was the equal in size of Stoick, a huge and very powerfully built man with enormous arms and vast chest, solid with muscle. But his hair was jet, not flaming red, his full beard was wild, not braided and tended and his eyes were dark, not grey-green. His scarred face had a sly cast as he twisted it into a look of surprise and interest. He leaned closer, his multiple-horned helmet tilting slightly on his head, his breath almost making her gag.

“What ‘ave we ‘ere?” he asked calmly. She stared at him fiercely, her blue eyes flashing.

“An intruder!” one of the men announced. He was a less massive man with a sly, mean face and straggly moustache. The huge man rolled his eyes.

“I can see that!” he growled. “Pretty sure I’d recognise a pretty little blonde thing like this if I’d seen ‘er before!” He leaned closer and his hand gently stroked her fair hair. “Where yer from, blondie?”

Astrid just scowled at him.

“How did yer get ‘ere?” the big man growled.

“She was on a dragon,” the sly-faced man reported. The Outcast leader turned in a shot, his eyes narrowing.

“Are yer sure, Savage?” he growled. He turned back to Astrid. “A dragon rider? That tells me yer from Berk!” She glared ferociously at him and grabbed her by the throat. “What’s yer name, girl?”

“I think the boy she was with called her ‘Astrid’, Alvin!” Savage offered, his tone slimy. Alvin’s thick, bushy brows dipped as he leaned closer to the grimacing girl.

“Astrid…as in Hofferson?” he suggested and saw the flicker of anxiety in her eyes that answered the question. “Did you hear a name for the boy?”

“She called him ‘Hiccup’,” Savage reported. Alvin leaned closer, the pressure on her neck tightening.

“Hiccup Haddock-the Dragon Conquerer?” he grinned.

“He doesn’t conquer dragons!” she spat.

“Astrid, Astrid…he conquered a giant dragon and stopped the raids on us all,” Alvin reported. “I am Alvin the Treacherous, Chief of the Outcasts! And I could use a Dragon Conquerer ter ‘elp me get me revenge on Stoick and Berk!”

“Hiccup won’t help you,” she choked, her vision blurring with the pressure on her throat. Alvin consciously eased his grip slightly.

“Maybe I could at least give ‘im the opportunity ter join me?” the big Outcast suggested to her. She shook her head.

“No,” she breathed. Alvin leaned very close, his beard tickling her face. She could see there were things crawling in it and she shuddered.

“Yer know, I ‘ave ruled Outcast Island fer twenty years and I’ve done that by never takin’ no fer an answer,” he told her coldly. “Yer a pretty little thing, Astrid but I’ve ‘eard some less good things about yer. Do yer know that Stoick ‘as a price on eye ‘ead? That he wants yer killed on sight…and will pay good money fer yer corpse?”

“Not…responsible for his madness,” she spat.

“Stoick claims yer bewitched ‘is son and persuaded ‘im ter run away with yer,” Alvin mused, inspecting the slender girl, the bright blonde hair, toned limbs from hours of axe practice, the carefully tended armour and leather panelled skirt with skull motif belt. Everything about this girl was a fierce warrior, not a sorceress. “Yer don’t look like a witch, Astrid. Yer certainly aren’t a temptress. Are yer bangin’ ‘im?”

Her brows furrowed in anger and she glared.

“Not yet, anyway,” Alvin decided. “So there ain’t no witchcraft involved. What ain’t Stock tellin’ us, girl?” He lifted her off the floor and she kicked angrily.

“He wanted Hiccup…” she began and Alvin began to laugh.

“The old dog…’e wants ter keep the Dragon Conquerer fer ‘imself! Is ‘e training dragons ter attack ‘is neighbours?”

“No!” Astrid gasped urgently. The last thing she wanted was this man and his ferocious and unscrupulous-looking men attacking Berk…and her parents… “He wanted to keep Hiccup under his control…deny him the freedom to fly and be himself…”

“And yer rescued ‘im?” Alvin growled. “Yer sweet on ‘im, ain’t yer?”

She glared but Alvin chuckled at her expression and she felt her inners curling in anger…because she did care about Hiccup and had been utterly petrified when he had been in Dagur’s hands…and now, he was back on their island, injured and exhausted with a very sick Toothless. There was a little surge of warmth in her chest when she thought about him and she could not betray him.

“Yer know, Astrid, I need that information…and I ain’t a nice man…” Alvin told her in a reasonable voice. He lowered her so her boots were back on the floor and his hand grasped her shoulder. “Yer a pretty girl and I don’t want ter ‘ave ter alter that…” She swallowed. “And I know Stoick wants ter get ‘is ‘ands on yer…and I reckon some others would as well. A pretty little girl like yer…maybe the Meatheads and Lava Louts…even the Berserkers. They all take slaves…and yer would be a nice additional ter any man’s ‘ome. And ‘is bed…”

“You can burn in Hel!” Astrid snapped and Alvin chuckled.

“Oh, that is already assured, girl!” he guffawed. “So we’re going ter ‘ave ter ‘urt yer…because I want ter know where ‘Iccup is…and in the meantime…I’ll see ‘ow much Stoick and the others are willing ter pay fer yer…” He saved her back into Savage’s arms. “I could make a nice profit out of auctioning yer, Astrid…once yer tell me where ‘Iccup is!”

She was dragged back as he jerked his hand and turned away and, for a brief moment, she allowed herself to feel scared, alone and very despondent. She would never give up…but she wasn’t sure how she could get away.. Even if she escaped…she would have to try to train a wild dragon and she wasn’t sure she was anywhere near as good as Hiccup and would be able to get one to help her before she was recaptured.

“Oh Hiccup,” she murmured. “I’m relying on you. Please…rescue me…”

oOo

Hiccup’s emerald eyes flicked up and he stared at Veurr.

“What do you want to talk about?” he asked warily. Astrid had been guarded around the woman and though he could tell the woman was incredibly skilled and experienced in her dealing with dragons, he could also tell she was far fonder of the reptiles than humans. Her cool forest green eyes inspected the skinny, battered boy in front of her.

“Your real name is Hiccup, isn’t it?” she asked him directly. He nodded.

“Um…yeah…” he murmured.

“So why did you call yourself Hamish?” she asked him directly. He paused and gently stroked the unconscious Night Fury.

“A couple of my ancestors were called Hamish,” he admitted without admitting anything.

_Two…the richest Chief in Berk’s history and his son. Their portraits hang in the Great Hall…_

“So why a false name, Hiccup?” the woman probed. He gave a small shrug.

“I am a fugitive-as is Astrid,” he explained. “The Chief is after us both.”

“Stoick the Vast is after you?” she asked pointedly. Her face creased in a frown, her eyes calculating. “Why?” He paused, looking away.

“Um…long story…” he shrugged, curiously uncomfortable in revealing his story to a woman he had just met.

“I’ve plenty of time,” the woman said calmly, sitting calmly on her heels. Hiccup cast her a thoughtful look and shrugged.

“I befriended Toothless,” he explained softly. “I…I found him in the forest. He had been shot down…injured…so I helped him…I built him a false tail to replace the fin he had lost and learned to fly with him.” He swallowed. He was still deeply ashamed at shooting down Toothless…and there was no way he was going to reveal his horrible secret to this stranger. “But my Dad found out…and he was less than impressed. Toothless was captured-and I was disowned, cast out of the Tribe. They went off to attack the Nest on Dragon Island, where a huge dragon was waiting for them. Dad-Stoick-wouldn’t listen…and he led almost the whole village on the mission. They would all be killed-there was no way they could win…or even survive. So I trained the dragons from our Dragon Training Class and we flew to Dragon Island to try to save them. Toothless and I fought the Red Death and we defeated it…but his fake tail burned and we fell. I almost died…and lost my leg. But I survived.”

Veurr stared at the young man…and she leaned forward.

“So why is Stoick after you? Surely he must have acknowledged you saved Berk? That you are a hero?” she asked. He gave a grim smile.

“Oh, acknowledging anything was always a problem for him,” he said quietly. “Stoick decided the only person who had anything to apologise for was Astrid-who was the one person who had already apologised and helped me when things were at their worst. No, he decided that I was his Heir and his Pride and everything else was forgotten…by him, not me… That I should be paraded like a prize yak to the other Chiefs and prevented from having any chance to fly…or get away. Astrid rescued me from that, from being a prisoner in my home and separated from Toothless. We’ve been on the run ever since…”

“Stoick…is your father?” the woman clarified. He nodded.

“Only son,” he admitted. “Great, huh? Totally the opposite of ‘the Vast’,” he added dryly. She stared at him, inspecting the scrawny shape again, seeing the green eyes that matched her own, the scruffy dark auburn hair that had been hacked short a couple of months earlier and was growing out well and the pale and bruised face with the faint freckles and…

Her hand shot out and grabbed his chin, lifting his head and peering at the faint scar under the right corner of his mouth. Her rough thumb slid over his skin and she felt him tremble: her eyes widened at the sight of the scar and she sighed.

“What?” he asked, pulling back from her firm and uninvited touch.

“Your scar…” she murmured. “You claimed to be the son of Stoick the Vast…but I had to check…”

“Um…why?” he asked.

“A mother never forgets…” she said quietly…and waited. There was a pause as he processed the words, then his eyes widened and he jerked back…and then again, his mouth dropping in shock.

“M-mom?” he gasped. “MOM?” She gave a small nod, a faint smile lifting her lips as she leaned closer.

“Hiccup,” she said gently. “Son…”

“Mom…what happened?” he asked. “I mean…why aren’t you dead? Where have you been?” She stared into his shocked and astonished face and gave a small, indulgent grin.

“Oh, Hiccup,” she said lightly. “I was never in any danger…you know that now…”

“Er…no, I don’t,” he reminded her shortly. “You were taken by a dragon when I was a baby. And though I know now that dragons are amazing creatures, not all of them are gentle…and people still died, Mom. Many people died in Berk during my childhood. You were gone. What else was I supposed to think?” She started and then sighed.

“When a dragon-Cloudjumper-broke into our home, I picked up a sword to protect you…but I couldn’t hurt him, son,” she explained, glancing lovingly at the large, four-winged dragon settled behind her. “I saw a creature with a soul as gentle and intelligent as my own. And then your father came in, scaring the dragon. As he turned, Cloudjumper caught you under the lip…and gave you that scar. It was fresh when I last saw you, as he grabbed me and took him with him. He recognised I had a soul that matched his own…and together, we broke free of the Red Death. We headed north to the Nest, the icy home of the Great Bewilderbeast, the King of all dragons!”

“Kinda not answered the question,” Hiccup asked her thoughtfully.

“I was in no danger!” she assured him.

“I was!” he shouted at her. She blinked in shock. “Mom-I was left as a baby with only my father to look out for me…and you know Chief Stoick the Vast was never going to be any sort of a substitute for a mother. I was a baby in a village at war with dragons. Why didn’t you come back?”

“I thought you were better off without me,” she said. He gave a short, disbelieving laugh.

“How-how did you come to that conclusion?” he asked her in shock. She blinked, suddenly taken aback by his anger.

“I-I couldn’t kill a dragon…and you were h-harmed because of me,” she stammered. “Our house was on f-fire…you c-could have been killed…”

“Really? So how was abandoning me making my life better? Or safer?” he asked her. Her eyes narrowed.

“There were other things to consider as well,” she said, her voice hardening. He frowned.

“What?” he snapped. Her fists tightened.

“The war was terrible,” she said firmly. “Vikings were killing dragons, capturing them, torturing them…and I could not allow that to happen when I knew the truth. So I had to do something. I began to intervene, stopping Vikings from killing dragons and freeing them from cages and traps. I had to help them when it wasn’t their fault…”

“So a mother never forgets…but you forgot about me,” Hiccup told her shortly. She opened her mouth. “And I wasn’t nearly as important to you as helping dragons…” Her eyes glittered and she frowned.

“Hiccup-can you not understand how important that is?” she asked him sharply, as if he was an errant or stupid child. “Those dragons are innocent and…”

“And I wasn’t?” Hiccup snapped, turning to face her, his fists clenched and eyes flashing with anger. “I was a baby, abandoned by his mother. I grieved for you. I spent my entire life yearning for my Mom, for a hug or a smile or the sense of protection and love that all the other kids had. And as I grew older, I was left as the only son of Stoick the Vast, a man bitter and angry since the death of his wife. I was never good enough. He wanted a strong son who could kill dragons to avenge his Mother…but he got me. Small and scrawny, a runt. A hiccup. And my life, quite frankly, was Hel. I was bullied and beaten for not being good enough-and there was no one to stand up for me. My father was just…disappointed. My cousin beat me daily. The other kids treated me like an Outcast. Is it any wonder I risked death over and over in raids to try to kill dragons and win the tiniest scrap of approval, of love from my Dad?”

Veurr stared at him in shock, her mouth falling open. Then her face twisted into a scowl.

“Stoick,” she growled. “You utter fool! How could you treat our son like that? I’ve a mind to…”

“No!” Hiccup snapped. “You don’t get to play outraged! You don’t get to be righteous on my behalf! My father neglected me-and you abandoned me! You are both equally to blame-and equally guilty!” He was breathing hard, his wide green eyes glittering with anger…but also wth hurt. It had been better by far to know that his mother had died at the paw of a dragon in the height of a raid than to know she had chosen to stay away and abandon her only child to the care of a Warrior Chief wholly unable to look after and love a small, curious and intelligent boy.

“But he…” she argued.

“No! YOU left me,” he snapped. “Had my mother been there, I wouldn’t have been treated like an Outcast. I would have had someone to stop my Dad treating me like dirt, someone to speak up for me. I would have had someone to teach me all the things I had to teach myself because Dad never could. I would have had someone to treat my injuries and speak to the other kids’ parents and sort things out instead of limping home every night, beaten and bloody. I would have had someone to protect me and love me and make me feel like I wasn’t worthless…and useless. But you chose to stay away. So YOU are guilty for all that!”

“Hiccup…” She was aghast, her face hurt. “I never hurt you…I didn’t protect you…but they were the ones who harmed you…”

“YOU harmed me as well!” he shouted at her, rising to his feet. His eyes were shining. “Gods, you cannot know how desperate I was sometimes! And how lonely it was, growing up. No friends, no family worth damn…and no mother… There was a huge hole in my life that didn’t need to be there. You made that. You chose to leave that wound open because dragons were more important than me! Were more important than your duty as a mother to your only child…the child you and Dad tried for years and years and years to have…” He blinked. “Was I not the child you wanted, Mom? Was I not good enough? Is that why you decided you weren’t coming back?”

“No, Hiccup, I…”

“So tell me in what way a mother never forgets? Because you managed to erase me from your mind for fifteen years! Did you ever come back to Berk?” he shouted. There was a pause.

“No,” she admitted at last. He stared at her and turned away, his hand gently dropping to caress Toothless’s still head.

“I think that answers everything,” he said in a quiet voice. “I don’t think there’s much more to say…”

“But there is!” she said firmly. “Hiccup-it’s clear you have taken after me. You know dragons…I can see from how you were on Berserk that you have an incredible bond with them, an instinctive connection! You clearly aren’t a Viking…you took after me! You have the soul of a dragon…that is who you are, son! Who else could bond with a Night Fury?” He stared at his friend.

“Um…you’re right about the Viking thing,” he sighed. “I’m just a Hiccup…” She leaned forward, her face intense with sudden urgency.

“Come with me!” she invited him urgently. “You are meant to be with me…with dragons. You should be at the Ice Nest and with the King…the Bewilderbeast will welcome my son, the Dragon Friend with an open heart! And I can teach you what I have learned over the years we have been apart, son! Every dragon has its secrets, you know…and we can explore them together, Mother and Son! Come with me, you and Toothless…and you will be safe and honoured. You will be in a place where you don’t have to hide who yo are and what you can do. Where you can be yourself, safe from Stoick and his madness! Where you can be…free…”

He stared at her, feeling the faintest croon rumble through Toothless and his heart yearned for safety, for freedom, for the love of a parent who would not judge him and try to control him. And honestly, how much worse could his life get? She was offering him a way out, an alternative to hiding and looking over his shoulder until Stoick died or he was caught or killed. He had given his Dad a chance after his recovery to start anew…and the man had behaved abominably and spurned it…but now his mother was here. Don’t she deserve a chance as well? An opportunity to make up for her years of neglect with the promise of a new life. And he felt an undeniable deep desire to visit the Nest and find out more about dragons. It was clear his Mom had spent fifteen years learning about them, exploring them and rescuing them…and his heart was screaming at him for not saying ‘yes’ immediately. But there was one problem left…or rather, two…

“Toothless…?” he asked. Veurr-or Valka, as Hiccup knew her name really was-gave a small smile.

“He will recover now,” she assured him. “Cloudjumper can carry him without a problem.”

He stared into the fire and his gaze drifted to the sleeping Stormfly and the young, fair-haired boy curled at the Nadder’s side.

“What about Astrid?” he asked.

oOo

In a cell, deep in the Outcast stronghold, a teenage girl crawled across the uneven stone floor, her head spinning and body hurting from the beating she had received. The Outcasts were being careful because they didn’t want to kill her. Their leader, Alvin the Treacherous, had made it clear that he wanted her fit-and pretty enough-to be sold, either to Stoick for her execution or to another Chief as his slave…

She sniffed, her eyes burning. She was Fearless Astrid Hofferson…but she didn’t feel very fearless now. She felt in pain and alone and afraid…and her life depended on a wounded boy and his dying dragon coming back for her and rescuing her from the heart of the ferocious Outcast settlement.

She had no idea if he could rescue her, even if he came.

“Please come for me, Hiccup,” she whispered as the tears finally fell.


	47. Chapter Forty-Seven

**Forty-Seven:**

“What about Astrid?”

Valka Haddock stared at the skinny shape of her long-abandoned son and tried to frame an answer. She had been shocked and amazed that her son was alive…and, more-he was like her. The young man was nothing like his huge and powerful father, his scrawny shape crouched by his dragon, his forest green eyes the mirror of hers and his scruffy auburn hair an exact match for hers. There were still traces of puppy fat around his cheeks, though he was skinny and there were more bruises than she liked to see on his pale and faintly freckled skin.

“Your friend?” Her eyes narrowed. Hiccup rose to his feet, his face calm and dignified.

“My best friend,” he said calmly. “Human friend,” he amended, his eyes drifting to Toothless. “She’s on Outcast Island because we went there to heal Toothless. And she is in real danger…”

“Why?”

Hiccup stared at her, almost bug-eyed with shock and he fought to get his words out.

“Why?” he choked. “Because she’s my friend, because she rescued me from Berk before I could kill myself, because she taught me to fight and survive when I was at my lowest! And in recompense…Stoick put a price on her head for snatching me from his clutches on Berk! And she is at the mercy of the Outcasts.”

“But she doesn’t trust me!” Valka pointed out. “She was evasive, she lied about who you were and where you came from…and she is not as dedicated to dragons as you are! Hiccup…face it. She is among her kind, among people she can understand and deserves…”

“She doesn’t deserve Outcasts…” Hiccup said grimly, recalling all he had heard of them from his aborted training.

“But Stoick believed she had something to apologise for?” Valka said coldly. “She’s not blameless, is she?”

“None of us are,” Hiccup muttered, his shamed green eyes drifting to the black shape of Toothless again. “You certainly aren’t…”

“What did she do?” the woman demanded and he sighed, closing his eyes.

“She was my crush from…oh Gods, probably when I was five or so…” he muttered. “But she was Astrid Hofferson, the finest warrior of our generation. Destined to be the Shield Maiden, the hope of Berk…and she wouldn’t even look at screw-up Hiccup, though she never hurt me. Then Dragon Training happened and I was a success…even though I was a total screw-up…because I had Toothless and I was learning more and more about how dragons thought and reacted…so I could defeat them without harming them. And Astrid, who had invested her whole future in winning Dragon Training, grew jealous at my skill. And though she started out protecting me, she surrendered to the anger and she led the rest of the class to ambush me outside my home. I-I was badly beaten and left to freeze…”

“And you call her a friend?” Valka sneered. “She deserves the care and compassion the Outcasts will give her…”

“No!” Hiccup snapped, standing forward, his arms rigid and fists tight. “You don’t get to make that judgement…”

“I am your Mother…” she began but he almost snarled at her,

“I have no mother!” he shouted. “She died a long time ago! Astrid scares me…but when I decided to leave Berk when I was chosen to slay the Monstrous Nightmare, she found me…but I persuaded her to come on a flight with me…” Valka folded her arms, her face cold. “Okay, I kidnapped her and she had the choice of coming with me or dropping hundreds of feet onto bare rock…but she sort of realised what I was trying to say..that Toothless was amazing. And then we ended up in the nest and saw the Red Death. Astrid and I talked…and I sort of forgave her…”

“But you can’t trust her…”

“Shut up. Needless to say it all went horribly wrong…but when I was dragged away by my Dad, when he beat me and disowned me and made me an Outcast, she spoke to me. She stood by me and gave me the courage to go on. We flew to Dragon Island…and when I fell, when I was dying, she flew me back to Berk and made sure Gothi could save my life. She read my diaries and realised Toothless could heal the infection in my amputated leg..and she was by my side every step of the way. I was still scared of her…but I trusted her…”

Valka just stared stonily.

“And after she was blamed and ostracised, I called a Thing and demanded that not just Astrid but everyone apologised. They said they agreed…but Stoick and the Elders immediately went back on what they had agreed and we had to flee. She brought me back to Gothi when I was sick…and Dad captured me. He locked me up at home, stopped me working, took away my leg and forbade me to ride dragons. He took away everything..so I wanted to die. But she broke me out of the house and we left with a price on her head and the whole of the Archipelago on our tails. And when she came for me as I sat there, wanting to die with a knife in my hands, I stopped being afraid. I trusted her…and I care for her. She promised she would always come for me…and I promised the same!”

“But you would just throw your life away needlessly when you have so much to offer…” Valka told him. “While she is just a Viking…”

His head snapped up. “Astrid is not ‘just’ anything!” he said. “She is my friend, who has stood by me through everything.” He stared at her. “And I don’t think you understand. You were prepared to abandon your husband and your own child to stay with dragons…and I doubt you understand how to live with and care for humans any more…” He stared at her, his eyes narrowing as he reran her words in his mind. “But I can. I owe Astrid my life over and over. She sent me off to make sure I could get away to heal Toothless. I am going to get her…and I will never abandon her.” He stared at her once more. “Astrid is my friend and I am going to rescue her,” he said determinedly. “I wouldn’t give up Toothless on Berk: I won’t give up Astrid now.”

“But I am not sure she would want to come to the Nest,” Valka said. Hiccup stared at her and glanced at his dragon..and then at Astrid’s distraught dragon.

“And I don’t either,” Hiccup told her grimly. “I will rescue my friend and we will manage. You can visit if you want…but I doubt I rate highly enough in your list of priorities to earn a visit. Once you leave here, it will be your dragons and nothing else…as it has been my entire life…”

She stared at him in shock: she had never considered he would turn her down. He clearly shared her love and aptitude with dragons and it was fated that he join with her, go to the Nest and help her in her quest to end all cruelty to dragons and defeat the Hunters and Trappers. She shook her head.

“I want my son with me…” she said in a perplexed voice. “Hiccup-why can’t you even give me a chance?”

“Because you want me to abandon my friend to Gods know what when she was only there to help heal my dragon,” he said stubbornly. “I’d kinda have more respect if you helped me free her and then discuss the choice with both of us!”

“I already helped to rescue you,” she snapped. Hiccup scowled.

“Way I heard it, you came to help rescue the Night Fury,” he said pointedly. “I was an irrelevance…and I understand that Astrid had to argue really hard to be allowed to be released by you to come and get me!” Valka rose.

“Then there is nothing more to talk about,” she snapped.

“Seem to remember saying that a while back,” Hiccup said quietly as the woman turned away from him.

“I hope you don’t regret your choice, Hiccup,” she said icily. “You could’ve learned everything about dragons. You could’ve made a difference. But you chose some…girl…instead of your mother and that amazing future…”

“Y’know, the way you say that makes me think that you’ve decided I’m not worth bothering with,” Hiccup said dryly. “I don’t do exactly what _you_ want-so I’m left to rot. Sounds like you and Dad are exactly the same. No compromise. No consideration of what I might want. No thought that if we maybe worked together, we could work out a solution that suited us both. But noooo….” Valka glanced at him and scowled.

“Maybe, one day, when you’ve realised what is important, you can join us,” she said, whistling to her dragon. “But for now…I hope you don’t regret your choice…” And then she sprinted to the door, the Stormcutter bounding after her. Hiccup just saw her swing onto his back as they took off and vanished into the night sky.

And then he wrapped his arms round his middle and collapsed to his knees, his head down and dry sobs shaking through him. Just like that, she had abandoned him once more. Not a touch, a hug, a kiss for her lost son…just a selection of lame excuses, biased judgements and a brutal choice. And he was devastated because he _had_ wanted to go with her…but not at the cost of Astrid’s life. _Not without Astrid…_

“I’m sorry I wasn’t enough to make you want to understand me, Mom,” he murmured softly. “I’m sorry you don’t care…but I do. I care for Astrid. I couldn’t live if I had left her…” Then he screwed his eyes closed. “And I don’t deserve to come. I shot him down. I’m the reason he can’t fly, why he was there to get hurt or poisoned in the first place…” He covered his face. “I shot Toothless down…I’m sorry…”

oOo

The Great Hall was raucous as usual, the murmur of Vikings chatting, discussing, shouting, cursing and singing all mingling into one reassuring cacophony that had Stoick the Vast almost smiling. These were his people, his charges and seeing them safe, knowing they were safe, made him feel good.

His eyes swept over the assembled Hooligans finishing the evening meal and he sighed. The peace they had had been won dearly with the sacrifice of Hiccup’s leg…and his eventual betrayal. The boy should have been grateful that he was forgiven and accepted…but he had wanted more. To think he had demanded the apologies of the village…for Thor’s sake, the boy had to toughen up and learn to be a Viking! And surely he should have thanked Stoick for punishing the bitch, Astrid Hofferson, who had harmed the boy so badly, almost killing him, if Gothi and Gobber’s accounts were to be trusted. Of course, they had bot insisted such an attack was the work of four people…but Astrid had confessed to leading the savage attack and so she bore the responsibility. For Hiccup to demand anything else was just…ridiculous.

Stoick clenched his fist and consciously forced himself to relax and project calm assurance. The villagers looked to him for calm and continuity, for leadership and protection. And what his wretched son had done had hardly helped him in that endeavour. Clearly, he had been wooed by the whore to spare herself proper punishment for her crimes and his and her accusations against the others had been preposterous. His proper Heir Snotlout was still in jail for attacking Hiccup and for his supposed attempt to rape Astrid…there had been too much outcry from the Hoffersons and almost every female on the island to release him straight after Hiccup had escaped…but Stoick was minded to release the boy. It had been almost five months since the pair had run from Berk and the boy had suffered enough.

The Chief swept his cold gaze across the Hall, seeing the dancing open fire pits and the tables of food…and the bulky shape of Gobber, his closest friend. But Gobber was barely speaking to his Chief, infuriated by the way that Stoick had treated his son…even though he was Stoick’s son. The blacksmith had insisted that he felt like an Uncle to the boy and had argued vociferously against the price on the girl’s head and the harsh regime Stoick had decreed for his boy. But Gobber couldn’t understand the duty that Stoick had, the humiliation he had endured after Hiccup had run. Berk needed to appear strong and the presence of the boy who ended the Red Death and could train any dragon was that lever that guaranteed Berk’s security from rivals. Mogadon, Bertha and Dagur had all been scathing at Hiccup’s non-appearance and even though Bertha was a long-time ally, Stoick had keenly felt the ridicule of all at his inability to keep his son in line.

He gritted his teeth and rose. And that was another sore point: the loss of the dragons. They had all gone with Toothless, leaving only Fishlegs’ Gronckle-a gentle and rather useless beast in terms of threat to potential invaders. But the husky boy had been persuaded to try training other dragons and there had been some mixed success…so that there were another six riders on the island, just in case the Meatheads or Berserkers got any ideas.

“Chief, Chief!” Hoark panted, having clearly run up the seventy-nine steps to the Great Hall. The lithe and study man, his full beard sporting a random fallen leaf, staggered to a halt, holding an arrow with a parchment tied around. “This was shot up the cliffs-and another one was stuck in the mast of the Thor’s Hammer!” He handed the second broken arrow over. The Chief beckoned his Council over…including Spitelout who had been freed a month after Hiccup had left. Olaf Hofferson had been allowed to remain on the Council-as a gesture that the Chief was not above promoting from the less connected families but the man contributed little. He still limped through to catch what was happening.

“It is from Alvin the Treacherous, the leader of the Outcasts,” the Chief read, his eyes flicking over the messy runes. “He has captured Astrid Hofferson.”

There was a silence and every eye swung to Olaf. The man paled and he took shuddering breath.

“Is she unharmed?” he asked in a shaky voice. Stoick’s eyes narrowed.

“She is a prisoner of the Outcasts and she is refusing to hand over my son,” he read. “Alvin recognises that she is wanted…but that she has intrinsic value also…”

Olaf’s fists tightened as he digested the bald words, knowing what they mean. “Dear Odin, no…” he murmured.

“In two days he will auction her off to whoever pays the most…whether it be me or another,” the Chief continued. “Hmmm…maybe she’ll have to answer to one of the other Chiefs as a whore…”

“No…” Olaf’s growl was audible but Stock gave a mocking look.

“You cannot afford her,” he said sneeringly. “I, on the other hand, am the richest man on Berk. So I can afford to sail to Outcast Island and buy her…”

“Please, Chief-she’s my only daughter, my precious child…” Olaf pleaded softly.

“And she attacked my son!” Stoick roared. “She has to pay for that!”

“Like your nephew?” Old asked. “Way I heard it, Snotlout did most of the beating-that night and every other day of that boy’s life! He tried to rape my daughter…and he got six months. Why should she lose her head?” Stoick scowled at him and the glanced around…there were a lot of thoughtful expressions and the Chief knew execution would be a hard sell…but he could also see another use for her.

“She has to pay…but she will perform better as bait,” Stock growled. “My son will not leave her…he has already proved that. So if we bring her here, in peril…he will come. I know my son: he will surrender rather than let her suffer in her stead!”

“I never thought ye’d stoop so low!” Gobber growled from the back of the group. “We’re talkin’ about a young lass who just helped her friend!”

“A girl who threatened her Chief with an axe…”

“Oh, get o’er yerself, Stoick!” Gobber snarked. “We could all see it from the Plaza! Yer were stuck in the hatch! Yer threw yer weapon at her and she parried with her axe! She never threatened yer and it was yer son who destroyed yer home…his home…because he didn’t want tae be locked up in there again!”

“ENOUGH!” Stoick roared. “The girl is a traitor…and my son…”

“…please, no…” Gobber breathed, his eyes stricken.

“My son shall share her shame and her fate!” Stoick shouted. “I want him back so he can pay for humiliating me and endangering Berk!”

“STOICK! The boy SAVED Berk! How can ye say such terrible lies?” Gobber bellowed.

“You were calling him the Pride of Berk last week,” Olaf Hofferson added. “How has he endangered Berk?”

Silence fell over the Great Hall as the Chief turned to Hoark, pointedly ignoring the two dissenters. “Prepare the ‘Odin’s Wrath’ for immediate sailing. Spitelout-release your son from the jail and get the Thorstons as well. Ack-load three chests of gold and our best warriors! We sail for Outcast Island!”

“Chief, I…” Olaf Hofferson began but the Chief spun to glare at him.

“NO!” he snarled. “You are not welcome-on this trip…or on my Council!” Gobber folded his arms and scowled at his friend.

“And me?” he asked. “Am I cast aside because I disagree with yer as well?” His eyes were cold and angry, matching those of his old friend. Stoick scowled.

“No,” he said, forcing his voice a little calmer. “I will leave you in charge, Gobber. I don’t think you can support me on this trip…”

“Ye mean yer don’t want yer conscience talking in yer ear, reminding yer that this is madness?” Gobber growled. Stoick turned away.

“Prepare to sail! We head for Outcast Island…to fetch the traitor Astrid Hofferson!”

oOo

The dungeon was cold and damp and Astrid was shivering, her teeth chattering. She winced as she moved, her bruises and welts pulling. She had been beaten cruelly by Alvin who had been determined to make her cry out and she had finally had to groan…and it had satisfied him.

Alvin had wanted to know where they were hiding-and where Hiccup had flown off to…but Astrid was determined that he would never learn that from her. She wasn’t sure what to call their home…but she decided that if they got out of it, they would name their Island ‘Nowhere’. So at least if anyone asked, they could answer and not answer at the same time. She smiled: the irony would appeal to Hiccup…and then her face fell. She knew she was in real danger but all her worry was focussed on Hiccup. He had still be horribly battered when she had last seen him, but he had done as she asked in taking the bark back to cure Toothless, praying that it worked as Veurr had said it would.

She sighed. She didn’t trust the woman-not in her heart. She could tell the woman was holding back and enjoyed holding the whip hand, scorning Astrid for caring for a human and only allowing her to go rescue Hiccup because he happened to be the Rider of his unique Night Fury. She bowed her head.

“Freya…I don’t pray often and I don’t ask much,” she murmured. “I am not selfish enough to ask for my own safety…I will accept whatever your will decrees.” She paused and closed her eyes, visualising the familiar pale face, the wide green eyes, faint freckles and scruffy auburn hair. “Please let Hiccup be safe,” he murmured. “Please allow his beloved friend, Toothless to live and fly again. Please let them be together once more and free…”

She wrapped her arms around herself and drew her knees up to her chest.

“Just let this not to have been in vain!”

oOo

Hiccup awoke lying against Toothless. He felt as if he was hollow, bereft of everything he had loved or cared for. Toothless was in a coma, Astrid was taken and his Mother…who he had often fantasised would welcome and love him without prejudice had given him an impossible choice and dismissed him when he had wanted to rescue his friend. He instantly snapped his eyes open and looked up…to see the black shape still and barely breathing. Immediately, he was on his knees, his hands resting gently on the flattened head, feeling the faint movement as the Night Fury breathed.

“He hasn’t moved,” Henryk said from beside a small fire, a pot of water warming. Hiccup flicked his forest green gaze up to inspect the younger boy.

“I would have felt it,” he murmured. “Henryk…?” The younger boy nodded. “I am sorry about your family…” The younger boy sighed and stared at the floor.

“It wasn’t your fault,” he said wearily. “I-I just want Astrid back. She saved me and the rest of the children. She fought off those Berserkers…but she didn’t deserve to be left behind…” Hiccup slowly walked over to the boy and crouched by him.

“I know that,” he said reassuringly. “Look, Astrid has been my friend since I had no friends and she is my best friend…best human friend, because Toothless was my first friend, my brother. But Astrid stood by me when I was lost, when I was cast out of my Tribe for befriending Toothless and disappointing my Dad. She gave me the strength to go on, the confidence to do something crazy and fight a dragon the size of a mountain…so don’t worry, Henryk…I will never give up on her-because she never gave up on me…” The younger boy’s eyes widened at the speech and he nodded.

“You sort of like her, don’t you?” he realised and Hiccup looked away, his cheeks warming in a blush.

“I don’t know,” he admitted.

“You’re blushing,” Henryk pointed out as Stormfly gave a little caw. Absently, Hiccup rubbed the horned nose warmly, cooing gently reassurances to the Nadder.

“Um…yeah,” he admitted, soothing the Deadly Nadder. “It’s okay, girl-we’ll go get Astrid as soon as Toothless is able to fly…”

“Why do we have to wait?” Henryk asked. Hiccup sighed.

“I don’t want to leave you here alone…because if something happens to you, you’ll be stranded here until you die. I-I can’t do that…”

“Can’t I just…” the boy frowned and Hiccup pointed to the Night Fury.

“See his tail?” The tow-haired boy nodded, frowning.

“It’s lopsided…wait…a fin is missing…!” he realised, looking closer. Hiccup nodded.

“I did that,” he confessed, watching Henryk’s eyes grow rounder. “I shot him down when I was trying to be a Viking. And then I met him and we became friends…and in doing that, I realised that dragons weren’t the mindless beasts we thought they were…”

“Wow!”

“Yeah,” Hiccup sighed. “But he has a prosthetic tail assembly…and it’s really hard to use without practice. I know because I built it…but even Astrid finds it hard, though I taught her myself. So we need him to be awake so I can fly him…”

“But Stormfly…”

“Can’t carry three,” Hiccup told him. Henryk stared at him…and then he nodded, suddenly understanding the older boy’s concerns.

“So we need to wait so Stormfly can carry Astrid…”

“And realistically, we need Toothless,” Hiccup sighed. “He is faster and far more powerful than Stormfly and I can’t see me rescuing Astrid without him…”

A movement had both boys spinning, staring at the black shape that rose, shaking his head and giving a shattering roar. Hiccup was on his feet in a second, his face lit with a smile of relief, his green eyes glittering in happiness.

“BUD! Thank Thor! You really had me worried there!” he exclaimed but Toothless lowered his head and growled. His eyes were fixed on the skinny, auburn-haired she before him, blurred with fever and pain, his pupils shrunk to thin slits in his acid-green eyes. Hiccup froze, his face melting into a shocked expression as the dragon opened his mouth and purple plasma filled his throat. Hiccup backed up a step.

“Toothless?” Hiccup managed in a choked voice. “Bud…it’s me…please…cut it out! It’s me…I won’t hurt you…please…you’re my best friend…my best friend…”

Toothless opened his mouth wide…and fired…


	48. Chapter Forty-Eight

**Forty-Eight:**

Hiccup felt time slow so he could see every detail...the way the plasma boiled in the dragon's mouth as he fired the plasma bolt at the boys...the way his eyes were slotted tight, just as they had been that first time as Toothless had pinned him down and roared at his scrawny, helpless form...the way he found himself turning to try to shield Henryk...the small scales on Toothless's paws...the rush and whoosh as Stormfly flung herself in the way and took the blast in his stead.

Hiccup already knew it was one of the Night Fury's larger blasts and the fact it slammed the tough Nadder aside and spun her to the floor only made him feel worse.

"TOOTHLESS! BAD DRAGON!" he shouted, pushing Henryk back and looking at Stormfly. The blue and gold dragon gave a pained croak but stumbled to her feet as the boy walked forward, his hand extended palm first. The dragon glared at him, steam curling from his half-open mouth. Fearlessly, Hiccup advanced slowly. "Toothless-it's me. You spared my life…and you are my bud, the best friend…the first friend…I had…" He inched forward. "You know…if you truly want to kill me, I can't stop you. And if you aren't my friend, then life really isn't worth going on. If I can't have you as my friend…then you may as well fire…" He inched forward, his hand hovering over the dragon's muzzle. And then he turned his head away. "If Astrid is lost, if you are lost, then I am just…Useless…and I may as well be dead…"

Henryk could barely catch his breath in worry and Stormfly gave a small squawk of anxiety. Then Toothless sniffed…

…and the scent-so familiar, the mix of dragon and fire and metal-called to him. Memories…of warmth and comfort and love and belonging…swirling around his mind, their bright warmth trying to penetrate the clammy fog of his confusion. He sniffed again and an image coalesced, of a pale face with freckles, scruffy auburn hair and bright emerald eyes. Of a warm voice that gave friendship and love and companionship. Of the boy who shot him down and freed him from the Red Death. Of his brother, the boy who flew with him and fought with him against impossible odds…and won. Of Hiccup…

And his nose pressed into the cool palm, feeling the tremble, smelling the salty scent of tears, shimmering in the boy's bright green eyes. His vision cleared, the fog lifted and he saw Hiccup, looking away as he had that day in the cove. He huffed and Hiccup's green eyes flicked to glance into Toothless's finally calm eyes.

"B-bud…?" Hiccup murmured and Toothless gave a small warble, his ear-flaps flicking. He bobbed his head and Hiccup's pale face warmed with a relieved smile as he turned to face his friend and press his other hand to the scaly face. Toothless purred happily, still feeling weak and muzzy but overjoyed at being reunited with his beloved little Viking.

But to Henryk, it looked like magic. Toothless was a raging monster and Hiccup had reached out to him, spoken to him and touched him…and suddenly Toothless was tamed. The younger boy gaped as Hiccup leaned forward and hugged the dragon, his shoulders shaking.

"Oh, thank Thor," he whispered. "I thought I'd lost you, bud. I'm so glad to have you back." He sighed and slowly straightened up, his hands pressed to the warm face for a long time before he walked to fetch some cod and carefully fed his dragon. He made sure he fed Stormfly as well…then Henryk watched in confusion as the Night Fury walked slowly to the Nadder and gave a little croon of apology. Stormfly croaked a reply and then Toothless very solemnly licked the wound on her side from his plasma blast.

"Ewwww!" Henryk grimaced but Hiccup gave a small smile.

"Night Fury saliva has amazing healing properties," he revealed proudly. "Toothless just wants to make things up to his best dragon friend. He didn't mean to hurt her…he just wasn't himself…" Ear-flaps back, eyes wide and apologetic expression on his face, Henryk suddenly realised why Hiccup loved his dragon and a desire really began to grow in his chest, almost a need to get his own dragon…and to love him and have someone love him back as much as Hiccup and Toothless loved each other.

"Uh…wow…" he murmured. Hiccup look up, his forest green eyes shining with pride and relief. Hiccup rubbed Toothless's fead as the Night Fury curled up like a huge cat, his tail curled around his rider and Hiccup snuggled against him.

"Get some rest, bud," he murmured. "I need your help when you're feeling better to get Astrid back." He closed his eyes. "Thor, I really need your help now…"

oOo

Astrid was hauled unceremoniously from her cell and dragged to see Alvin. The Outcast Leader had scared her as few others, with his cruel eyes and enormous strength and general air of menace. Every Hooligan knew of the Outcasts, men exiled from their tribes for heinous crimes-treason, rape, murder, treachery…and Astrid was at their mercy. So far, they had only roughed her up and beaten her…but she had no illusions they would be merciful. They were Vikings after all…and some Viking Tribes were very cruel to female captives…so Astrid lifted her bruised chin and looked as proud as she could as she was thrown into Alvin's hall.

The Outcast leered as the girl was dragged in and leaned froward to grab her arm, jerking her close to him. She almost gagged on his foul breath as he sniffed her and licked her cheek.

"Yer know, girlie-there are an 'undred things I could do ter yer ter make yer talk," he growled. Trying to breathe through her mouth, she glared at him defiantly.

"You-you can try…" she said, her voice scarcely wavering. Alvin leered yellowly and his big hand roughly pawed at her body, his face nuzzling into her face and neck. She screwed her eyes closed, her jaws clamped shut in case he tried to kiss her and knowing she could do nothing if he decided to rape her. And knowing she would probably want to kill herself afterwards…because all she had ever wanted was to be a Shield Maiden, a ferocious female warrior dedicated to battle in the place of husband and family. She could never be one if Alvin despoiled her, never be accepted into Valhalla because she would be spoiled and dishonoured. Sure, the Hooligans had dishonoured her but she was still pure, still untouched…and Freya knew it. But this…would be the end.

She felt the hands move roughly across her chest, kneading her waist and sliding under her skirt and across her flat stomach…and lower.

…but if she had ever decided to marry, to change her path and choose a husband, a man to give herself to, it would have been Hiccup. _Only Hiccup_. Sweet dorky, clever, determined Hiccup. Hiccup she had thrown her chance away with through jealousy. Hiccup she loved. Hiccup she had given herself up to help…

Alvin breathed in her ear.

"I ain't gonna rape yer, Astrid. Yer worth more ter me fresh than used…just…but I just wanted ter have a good check of me merchandise…" He licked her face again. "I 'ave a reputation ter maintain, after all…"

She said nothing.

"Stoick's comin', Astrid," he taunted her. "What d'you think 'e'll do if he gets 'is 'ands on yer?" He paused. "If yer tell me I can find 'Iccup, I may keep yer fer myself!"

"I'll pass, Alvin," she said evenly. Alvin glared into the defiant shape…then slapped her to the ground.

"Take 'er away," he growled and nailed his second, Savage. "She ain't ter be touched, Savage. I mean it. If anyone does 'er, it'll be me…but fer now, I wants 'er fresh fer the auction."

"The Meathead and Berserker ships are in sight," Savage reported. "Visithugs are reported to be half a day away and Hooligans as well."

"Excellent," Alvin grinned. "Yer hear, Astrid? Once they're all 'ere…we'll 'ave the auction and then yer'll be leavin' on one of those ships…as a slave."

oOo

The _Odin's Wrath_ was making excellent speed away from Berk, the sails full of the frigid wind as Stoick stood at the bow, staring into the misty distance, the grey waves rearing as the dragon's-head prow carved through the sea. The wind ruffled through his flaming red beard and he had to squint as he peered for the first view of the jagged cliffs of Outcast island.

The ship was a traditional longboat, the hull decorated by a multitude of circular Viking shields and packed with warriors. Stoick's second and half-brother, Spitelout and his stocky son Snotlout were standing beside him, heavily armed. Both were feeling sore and angry at their sentences for attacking the briefly rehabilitated Hiccup and the fugitive Astrid Hofferson…and both were planning their revenge against the girl. Snotlout stood at Stoick's side.

"I still need a wife, Uncle," he said guilelessly. "And I've always wanted Astrid…"

Spitelout rolled his eyes. "You know my feelings about that, Snotlout," he growled. "As Heir, you need to marry a maiden from another tribe…someone with a large dowry and who can increase your wealth and cement your power…and that of the Hooligans. Astrid Hofferson is a dishonoured serf, soon to be a slave. You cannot marry her…but you can have her…if you want…as a toy…"

Stoick scowled at his reasoning.

"She is under sentence of death," he reminded his readopted Heir. "We will get her back…to lure my son back. I know he will give himself up to save her…" His eyes narrowed at Snotlout's discontented expression. "And then he can pay for defying me…" The younger Jorgensen scowled.

"I thought I was your Heir again, Uncle," he protested. "Why are you trying to get Hiccup back again when you have me?" The Hooligan Chief frowned.

"He is my son," he said, "and though it is now clear he is unsuited to be the Heir…he has the skills to train dragons. While he is away, what if another captures him…or learns of his secrets? Should be be menaced by other tribes riding dragons when my son invented the skill? If he won't be the Heir I want, then he will be a serf to his Chief." Spitelout glanced at his brother calculatingly.

"And the girl?" he asked guilelessly.

"Once we have Hiccup, then you can have Astrid…for as long as your son wants her," he said slowly. "Once he wearies of her…then her sentence will be executed…" Snotlout's face lit with a triumphant smile.

"So she has to please me…and her life depends on it…" he smirked. "Oh…I'm going to enjoy this…"

"Provided the Chief outbids the other buyers," Spitelout reminded his son.

"Alvin should just hand her over-as she is a fugitive from Hooligan justice," Stoick growled, "but of course…he is not our friend…"

"Though maybe he could be persuaded that it would be in his interest to befriend us…" Spitelout suggested but Stoick raised a hand sharply.

"Do not mention his ability to train dragons," he growled. "A few are already calling him the Dragon Conquerer…and the last thing we need is Alvin deciding he wants to capture the boy for himself…"

"Brother…I suspect he already knows," Spitelout commented. "Everyone does anyway…and the Outcasts are very good at finding out information. Maybe we should try a different tack?" Stoick paused.

"Meaning?"

"An alliance…" Spitelout mooted, his eyes narrowing. "Offer him a Treaty…in exchange for Astrid and Hiccup…" Stoick shook his head.

"He's utterly treacherous…we all know it…" he growled, his face hardening. "But he is a pragmatist…and if there is enough advantage for him, he will stick to the bargain…"

"And with dragons…we can always wipe them out if they step out of line…" Stoick said slowly. "I will speak with Alvin when we land…and see if he is amenable to an accord…"

"Just make sure you get Astrid, Uncle," Snotlout reminded him. "If someone else gets her, you'll never get Hiccup back."

oOo

Hiccup was awake long before dawn, his eyes staring into the darkness. It had actually been too long since he woke with Astrid and the dragons, too many days where he was imprisoned and terrorised or when she had been gone. He blinked and took a slow breath. They had been together when Veurr-his mother-had helped rescue him but that had been awkward…and she had rejected him anyway. It had been inevitable because she wanted him to just abandon his friend and come and become a weird hermit dragon protector…and Hiccup, who had missed out on much of his life with any people who cared for him, was not in any sort of a hurry to cut himself off from the rest of the world.

And it would have condemned Astrid.

The girl he…

He blinked and sighed. What did he feel for her? _Friendship,_ certainly. _Trust_ definitely. Affection, warmth, concern…

_Love?_

He wasn't sure. She had been his crush for years, the beautiful, smart, decisive untouchable goddess who was his ideal for a girl…but then she had turned on him and shattered his heart so brutally he thought he would never recover. The attack had broken his heart…and the aftermath had been so difficult…but then she had found Toothless and everything had changed. She had seen the truth, accepted the truth and stood by him when everything collapsed. And when he had fallen, when he had been dying, she had found the means to save his life and had stood by him ever since. Gods, she had rescued him from utter despair when he was captured and his father had decided to turn him into his puppet, removing everything he cared for…when opening his veins and going to Valhalla was the only option left. And she had found a way to rescue him from Dagur when the man had been determined to break him.

If he said he hadn't been infinitely grateful to see her, he would be lying. And his pulse had accelerated at her touch…but was that love? Did he trust her that much? Trust that jealousy would never grip her again and cause her to attack him and kill him? Sure, he had grown a little and her expert tuition was beginning to make him more of a warrior than anyone on Berk had managed…and he knew that Toothless would never let her hurt him…but there was that tiny doubt and that stopped him trusting her totally and unreservedly…the trust he imagined he would share with the woman he loved, the woman who would completely own his heart.

So what were they? _Friends?_ Certainly. _Companions?_ Most definitely. _More?_

He didn't know…but she needed him now and he couldn't fail her. Because the alternative was too horrible to consider. He sat up.

Toothless opened his eyes and made a grumbling noise, his ears flicking. The normality of the response had Hiccup's lips stretching in a relieved smile and his eyes sparkling in happiness.

"Morning, bud," he grinned, rubbing the dragon's muzzle affectionately. "You ready for a flight this morning?" Toothless huffed and closed his eyes. "Awww, c'mon you lazy lump! You have been lying around for days…" Hiccup teased him and the dragon gave a grumbling warble. "Hey, maybe I should just go flying on Stormfly instead…"

The acid green eyes snapped open and the black head shot up, all the ear flaps pricked and on alert. Toothless barked and scrambled to his feet, stretching like a cat. Hiccup felt joy and relief shoot through him as the dragon nudged hard against him.

"Okay, okay-I take it back," he murmured. "We need breakfast…and then we'll all go for a fly…" Toothless crooned gently as Hiccup crouched by Henryk and gave the boy a little shake. Eyes blearily opened and the boy looked up into a pair of bright green eyes. "You ready to get up?" Hiccup asked him. He nodded.

"Are we going to rescue Astrid?" he asked in a wary voice. Hiccup gestured to the bouncing black dragon.

"Toothless says yes," he murmured. "And I think I know how…but I will need your help…" Henryk scrambled up and suddenly his face was filled with determination.

"Tell me what to do," he said.

oOo

The harbour of Outcast Island was rammed with Viking Longships, the colours of Hooligans, Berserkers, Meatheads, Murderous, Lavalouts, Uglithugs and Visithugs as well as Outcast vessels. Outcast guards were everywhere-not that Alvin was especially worried that his visitors may kill each other…he just wanted it to happen after the auction when he had squeezed the maximum amount of gold out of the prospective buyers for the fugitive Astrid Hofferson.

Stoick's face was locked in a permanent scowl, nodding curtly to old acquaintances Mogadon of Meathead and Madguts of Murderous…but not recognising the prospective buyers from the other tribes. Not all Chiefs were keen on the idea of the auction but the other isles harboured a number of well-off Vikings who were willing to make the journey in the hopes of purchasing a pretty and hopefully compliant and fertile young woman. He almost baulked when he saw the buff and crazed shape of Oswald's son, Dagur the Deranged…but he recalled the rumours that Oswald had 'retired'…probably with assistance…and nodded a neutral greeting at the younger man. But Dagur had leered and made a bee-line for the huge Hooligan Chief.

The dismal grey of Outcast Island surrounded them as Dagur toyed with his single-headed axe, his horned helmet increasing his height and reflecting the light of the torches dully.

"I saw your son recently," he leered, his pale green eyes cold. "He was helping me with a few dragons…" Stoick's eyes flicked up, trying to read the other man…but Dagur was fidgety and his mood shifted wildly.

"Mmm," Stoick growled.

"Yes…he was doing well…until a strange rider on a four-winged dragon attacked us and rescued him and his Night Fury," Dagur growled. "But if I get his girlfriend…he will come back…and I'll have my own dragon army."

The Hooligan Chief spun away, his fists tightening with an audible crack.

"Lead me to the venue," he growled to Spitelout. "We cannot let anyone else get Astrid. If Dagur is any clue…all of them want her to secure their own Dragon Trainer…" Spitelout stared round the Vikings all pushing and shoving as they surged through the double doors into the grey stone fortress built into the side of the mountain, the jagged peak jutting into the darkening cloudy sky above them.

"I'm glad I ignored you, brother, and brought every coin we had," he muttered and followed the Chief into the mountain.

Behind him, a tow-haired boy paused, glancing around for the dimmest-looking Outcast guard on offer-and there were plenty to choose from. He settled on a rotund man with wild black hair, beard and moustache…well, he looked like he'd been hit in the face with a huge black beaver, to be honest…and walked up to him, carefully carrying the mug of mead. He paused and smiled broadly.

"I was ordered to bring this to you," the boy said, his light voice friendly. The guard looked shocked.

"Me?" he said suspiciously. "Are you sure you've got the right person?" Henryk sighed. This man was even so stupid he wouldn't accept a free mead!

"Unless you have no clue where the cells are…" he suggested. the man wavered for a whole extra second before grabbing the mead and taking a huge swig of the powerful liquor.

"Hel, yeah," he gasped, wiping his mouth. "Mmm…this is good stuff!" Henryk cooked an eyebrow.

"Um…way in to the cells?" he asked. The guard looked at him, saw his general age and size and took another hefty slug of mead.

"Along that wall, turn left, along that wall, then just past the crag," he said. "Recessed door. There is a long way through the fortress but it's guarded and Alvin is very antsy with all these enemies…sorry, visitors…on the loose…"

"Can't be too careful," Henryk agreed. "Thanks." The guard saluted him with the mug as the lad made his way through the crowd and ducked into an alley, to meet the cloaked and hooded shape waiting there.

"And?" Hiccup said quietly. He had decided Henryk was less conspicuous…because anyone from Berk, most of the other Chiefs and Dagur all knew what he looked like. And he had been busy making a few contingency plans of his own…

"Gottit," the younger boy said, grinning. "Boy, they were stupid!" The dragon rider sighed and listened to the instructions, then nodded, grabbing Henryk and leading him along the route he had described to the recessed door. The dragons followed them as Hiccup deftly picked the lock and entered, pausing to listen and then letting the dragons in. He sighed.

"Stormfly…find Astrid…" he said and the Nadder stiffened, lifting her head and sniffing audibly. Hiccup had read and reread the Dragon Manual and after watching Stormfly closely over the months they had been together, he wasn't sure Nadders actually were Sharp class after all. To him, they were much better tracking dragons…maybe even deserving their own class… Then the Nadder shot off, her spines raised and the two boys sitting on Toothless bounded after her.

The tunnels were well-used and the floors worn, hinting that this place had seen a lot of traffic. The cells were carved into the walls of the mountain, deep and far from the entrance, each blocked by a solid iron barred door. But there were no guards and almost no prisoners…

Stormfly sped to an isolated cell, her spines suddenly flattening down. She stopped and nuzzled against the bars of a cold, miserable space, crooning pathetically. Suddenly she sat and pressed her body against the bars, her head drooping as Hiccup slid from Toothless and peered into the cage. It was empty…but there was dried blood on the floor and a single stud that he recognised as from Astrid's leather skirt. He stared for a long moment.

"We're too late," he murmured. "They've already taken her to the sale…" Stormfly gave a small groan and the boy flipped his hood up. "I'd hoped to do this the peaceful way…but it looks like that isn't happening." He swallowed and turned to face Henryk, his green eyes shimmering with anxiety. "Stay with Stormfly…and when I say go, you go. Clear?"

The boy nodded as Hiccup raced to his dragon, clipped his leg in and then laid his hand on the Night Fury's head.

"FIND ASTRID!" he commanded.

oOo

Astrid was barely able to keep her feet, half-dragged through the corridors from her cell into the main arena of Outcast, a space very similar to the Dragon Killing Arena in Berk. The sunken bowl was covered with a chain roof and had seats around the outside…but there were more seats inside where the prospective bidders were seated in groups-Hooligans, Berserkers, Meatheads, Uglithugs, Murderous, Visithugs and Lavalouts. Alvin stood on a platform, his huge shape radiating bonhomie and triumph. His rough voice roared through the Arena as Astrid was dragged in, her slender shape still struggling.

"Welcome, welcome!" Alvin roared. "I am very 'umble ter see so many great and 'onourable Chiefs gracin' me simple Arena!" He leered yellowly and swigged his mug of mead. "You 'ave made the trip ter purchase this unique lot-one Astrid 'Offerson, a fugitive of Berk with a 'uge price on 'er 'ead and a conviction fer treason!"

"Lies," Astrid snapped through bruised lips. The Outcast leader gestured to Savage and the man ripped at her tunic, tearing the fabric away to expose her with only her bindings shielding her modesty.

"As yer can see, she is a pretty young thing, not yet touched by a man so fresh fer any of yer who fancies a slut to warm 'is bed…or a brood mare…"

"Rot in Hel…" Astrid growled. Savage tugged her hair viciously.

"And very spirited…though I am certain men of yer calibre can tame a little whore like this without much effort…" Alvin leered.

"You forgot her most attractive feature!" Dagur shouted. Alvin frowned.

"I ain't gettin' Savage ter take off 'er skirt, leggins and bindins, if that's what yer mean!" Alvin shouted at him. Dagur rolled his eyes.

"It's not, old man," he said in a bored voice. "Astrid Hofferson is the travelling companion and closest friend of Hiccup Haddock, the fugitive son of Chief Stoick the Vast of Berk and the Dragon Master. And whoever gets Astrid has the best tool for attracting Hiccup and getting him to ply his trade on your island…training your own personal dragon army…"

"'Dragon Army'?" Madguts growled, his vicious gaze swinging over the other participants. "When was this going to be announced?"

"I suspect it wasn't…so those in the know profit and the rest of you…waste your time…" Dagur scoffed.

"Not if I get her myself!" the Murderous Chief snarled. "Stop wasting time, Treacherous! I've got gold to spend and I fancy a roll in the sack with this fresh young thing…"

Alvin scowled at him: he knew the other Chiefs despised him and he was determined that Madguts didn't get Astrid…not that the expression on Stoick's face didn't seem to promise the same.

"Okay…the bidding starts at a hundred gold pieces," he announced. Dagur eagerly waved a finger.

"Two," Mogadon growled.

"Three," A Lavalout growled.

"Four." An Uglithug merchant ran his tongue over his lips in anticipation.

"Five!" Dagur riposted.

Stoick watched the bidding rapidly rise to fifteen hundred and Alvin's grin grow broader and broader as the price increased. He glanced at Snotlout, who was looking at him in agony-he was the only one who hadn't placed a bid yet.

"Two thousand," he announced and every eye turned to him, many jaws dropping. That was a staggering amount of gold to lay out for a woman they all knew he wanted to kill.

"Twenty-one hundred!" Dagur shouted challengingly. The other bidders were silent, watching the two chiefs slug it out over the girl. Astrid curled her arms across her chest, hanging onto the rags of her tunic and breathing hard. This was like some horrible nightmare.

"Three thousand!" Stoick announced, rising to his feet.

"Four!" Dagur shouted.

"Five!" Stoick roared.

Dagur glared. It was more money than he had brought…more than he could afford. He seemed on the verge of saying something, making an additional offer…but he remained silent. Alvin glanced around the audience.

"Any more?" he asked. There were glares and shuffling of feet. Snotlout was looking triumphant, Alvin smug and Stoick's face was locked in a menacing scowl. "The leading bid is five thousand gold pieces from Stoick the Vast of Berk. Any more bids?"

There was silence and Savage jerked Astrid's head up to face her fate. Stoick looked at her coldly, then looked away…but she could see Snotlout's eyes fixed on her bindings, ready to cut them off the moment she was hauled aboard their ship.

"Odin, Thor, Freya…help…" she whispered because she could lip-read what he was mouthing and she knew…she knew…she was lost.

"Going once," Alvin announced. "Going twice…"

A plasma blast exploded through the dome of the Arena's chain roof and a long spray of Nadder spines stitched a line between the Chiefs and the prisoner. A black shape landed and immediately spun, swatting Savage aside. A cloaked figure instantly grabbed the trembling Astrid and pulled her into his arms, wrapping the cloak around her half-naked shape. Hiccup's green eyes raked over the assembled would-be buyers as he tightened his grasp around his friend. Toothless crooned, his throat already full of purple plasma, poised to fire at anyone who came too close.

"I believe this is mine," he said.


	49. Chapter Forty-Nine

Forty-Nine:

"I believe this is mine," Hiccup said in a stern voice as he clutched Astrid to him, wrapped in his cloak. His stomach was fluttering with anxiety, with a whole crowd of Chiefs and would-be slave-owners who had assembled to buy his friend. The fact that he was sitting on a dragon in a dragon-killing arena wasn't doing much for his nerves either. But he could feel Astrid trembling, her bruised face down and body pressed against him and the trust that implied gave him strength. Stoick stepped forward half a pace.

"Hiccup…" he growled and Alvin gaped.

"This is yer son?" he scoffed. "The Dragon Master? This…runt?"

"Thank you for summing that up," Hiccup said sarcastically. "Yes, I am Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the Third, son of Stoick the Vast and the one who ended the Red Death and the war with the dragons!" There were murmurs and heads leaning close to one another, muttering shock and dismay. "And yes, this is a dragon."

"Son…you can stop all this nonsense now and come home," Stoick forced himself to say, but his eyes were cold and hard. Hiccup stared up at him and his eyebrow quirked.

"Really, Dad? You expect me to fall for that one?" he said in a disappointed voice. "You had your chance…and you locked me up, beat me up and reduced me from the person who defeated the Red Death to…nothing. I'm not falling for that one again!"

"I am your father and your Chief and I command you to return!" Stoick roared. Hiccup raised his chin.

"No." The word was even but Hiccup knew his hands were trembling: he had never planned to see Stoick again. "You can keep both of those honours…" He paused and his forest green gaze swept over the Hooligan party. "I already see you've handed my birthright back to Snotlout. And I see that despite what he did to both Astrid and I, he is freed…while you pursue us like traitors!"

"You are traitors!" Spitelout shouted. Toothless growled and Hiccup angled his head, seeing Alvin inching closer.

"Stormfly!" he snapped and a volley of spines landed inches from Alvin's feet. The big Outcast leader leapt back.

"'Ere…no need ter be 'asty!" Alvin snapped.

"No need to try to flank me, Al," Hiccup told him sarcastically. "Keep your distance! Dragons have excellent sight, hearing…and sense of smell!" His nose wrinkled-even from this distance, Hiccup could tell Alvin was a complete stranger to soap. The Outcast leader gave an ugly scowl but the boy turned his glare back to the prospective buyers. "I am no traitor-because that implies I have acted against my Chief or given Tribe secrets away to those who mean us harm! But my only crime was to want to continue to ride my dragon, work in the forge…and be treated like any other member of the Tribe!"

"But you're not…and you did betray us!" Snotlout sneered. "Dagur told us you helped him train dragons…" Hiccup glared at him.

"You almost killed me, you tried to rape Astrid…and you are here, free," he replied, his voice shaking with anger. "If I were a normal member of the Tribe, you would be exiled or executed for attempted murder! But here you are free, standing by the Chief speaking of things you know nothing about…as usual!" He glared at Snotlout. "I was captured by Dagur as he attacked an unarmed Peacable Island, Snori and slaughtered the entire Tribe! He tortured me and my dragon to help him…and I was forced to train some dragons…which I freed when Astrid rescued me. I never shared any Tribe secrets with anyone."

There were more murmurs now and a number of other other Chief stared at the Berserker leader with enormous suspicion. No one wanted to hear that the Berserkers were on the warpath once more: no one ultimately won when facing Berserkers. Dagur gave a false laugh.

"It was only one little Peaceable island," he said dismissively. "I needed to do something to keep the boys occupied. Berserker soldiers, nothing to do…do you want them raiding your islands instead?"

"We have treaties!" Mogadon snarled.

"And duh! They were with my father, who no longer rules Berserk!" Dagur sneered.

"They were with the Berserker Tribe!" Madguts growled.

"Hello? Murderous Tribe? And you're trying to lecture me on how to behave?" Dagur snapped. "I may take the Armada for a spin in your direction, Madguts…if you don't SHUT UP right now!"

"ENOUGH!" Stoick roared. "This is pointless!"

"Hmm…I can see why Hiccup had problem with you," Dagur snarked. "You do like the sound of your own voice-and imagine you're the Boss of us all." He leaned voice and his voice dropped. "You're not, old man. My father found out I don't take orders from anyone the hard way. You want the same lesson?"

"Try," Stoick breathed, his hand dropping to his sword.

"SIT DOWN!" Alvin roared. "I ain't 'aving yer kill each other on me island-yer can do it on yer own time!" Hiccup leaned close to Astrid, his arm tightening slightly round her.

"You okay, Milady?" he murmured. She gave the tiniest nod.

"We need to get out of here," she murmured. "I…" She stiffened, seeing a movement out of the corner of her eye. "Hiccup!" she hissed.

"I see it," he murmured and tapped Toothless's side with his ankle. The Night Fury moved like lightening, spinning to face Snotlout, his throat glowing with plasma.

"One more step and it will be your last," Hiccup said tiredly. "Don't you ever give up?"

"Not until you learn your place, Useless!" Snotlout sneered. Hiccup scowled.

"If I was useless, could I do this?" he asked and tapped Toothless's head. The Night Fury swatted his tail and slammed the boy all the way across the Arena, impacting hard and sliding down unconscious. "Anyone else stupid enough to risk it?" he asked. Stoick swung to glare at him, his eyes unforgiving.

"Come back now, boy, and you will both be treated with respect," he said. Hiccup stared at him and shook hishead.

"Uh-huh…don't believe you. Sorry," he said. "You broke your word to me, Dad." There were murmurs among the other Chiefs since it was generally held that Stoick's word was completely reliable. "You said you would respect me, you said you were sorry and agreed simple measures to demonstrate that…and immediately went back on them. You blamed Astrid for a deed that others participated in far worse and let them off…and you called me your Heir and Pride…and then imprisoned, beat and broke me. You drove me to the brink of suicide, Dad…and only Astrid's arrival saved me."

There was silence.

"You are a disgrace to the Hooligan Tribe! You are a disgrace to the line of Chiefs! You are not my son," Stoick growled.

"Well that's a relief!" Hiccup said tightly, trying not to feel the pain the words evoked. He knew it was inevitable but the finality of the decree still hurt…because the boy Hiccup had been had always sought the approval and love of his father. And he had learned to combat dragons in his own way, he had killed a dragon in front of the whole village, ended the war and saved the Tribe…and all he had wanted was to be himself. But instead, somehow, he was exiled once more, disowned once more. He felt Astrid's hand tighten on his waist.

"You are a fugitive…" Spitelout announced. Hiccup nodded.

"He always was a useless father, to be honest," he announced. "That makes a total of two useless parents…" Stoick visibly stiffened and turned bright scarlet in rage.

"HOW DARE YOU SPEAK OF YOUR MOTHER LIKE THAT!" he roared, the words echoing round the Arena. Even Spitelout and the semi-conscious Snotlout winced. The other Chiefs cringed: they all knew not to mention Valka.

"When did you last speak to her?" Hiccup asked. Stoick glared at him. "I spoke to her two days ago. She's alive-but she chose never to come back."

"You're insane…" He turned to face the assembled men. "HE'S INSANE! My wife was taken fifteen years ago by a dragon and…"

He paused and then looked at Hiccup. The boy gave a small humourless smile.

"I see light has dawned," he commented. "Now we know dragons are friendly and peaceful if they are not threatened…and we both know my mother wouldn't fight dragons. She wanted peace…it was, I believe, a very unpopular view…" Stoick's jaw dropped. "But she was right. She chose dragons over you because she knew you would never change, never give peace a chance. And guess what…you're STILL doing that! Even when the rest of the Archipelago realises we don't have to fight dragons, you keep on fighting the war because you blame them for the loss of your wife. News flash, Dad. They may have taken her-but you are the reason she never came back-even though she can…and always could."

"You're lying…" Stoick repeated. Hiccup shook his head.

"Sorry, Dad, but bad day for you," he said calmly. "You disown your son and learn your wife is still alive…but chooses not to return to you. You lied to me-and everyone now knows Stoick the Vast is just as dishonest as they all are. Dagur lied to you all and is back attacking his neighbours. Alvin was hoping Astrid would tell him how to train dragons. Is it any surprise I don't want to stay with any of you? Dragons are amazing, loyal, peaceful creatures and you people just want them to make war on one another!"

"You vicious little traitor!" Spitelout sneered. "Your lies won't divide us…"

"You're already divided!" Hiccup snapped. Dagur gave a shrug.

"Got us there," he commented, cleaning his nails with a dirk.

"So listen up!" Hiccup announced, his green eyes glittering as he swept his gaze across the audience. "I am a Dragon Rider and Dragon Trainer. I am no threat to anyone and am happy to teach these who wish to learn to respect and live in peace with dragons. But I will not train dragons for anyone who would use them for war, to attack others. I will not allow you to capture or torment dragons. I will not permit you to persecute me or Astrid or anyone who helps me. Is that clear?"

"And how are yer plannin' on doin' that, boy?" Alvin growled, his fists tightening. "What's ter stop us locating yer and bringing yer in ter 'elp us?" Hiccup gave a mirthless smile.

"Try sneaking up on a dragon," he invited them. "Or facing one who is after you! But if you avoid me, if you leave me alone and don't persecute me, then I won't have to respond."

"You're declaring war on us!" Dagur grinned, his eyes sparkling with delight. Hiccup shook his head.

"Only you would see it that way!" Hiccup said. "I just want to be allowed to live my life like a normal person-without being exploited, imprisoned or persecuted. Without having to look over my shoulder every second or be scared my friends will be harmed to force me to help evil men who only seek to exploit my skills to harm others. Is that too much to ask?"

Stoick scowled at him. "You are mine, boy!" he snapped.

"I thought you just disowned me," Hiccup told him, his eyes narrowing.

"But you remain a Hooligan-and as such, you are under my command…and I command you to return!" he growled.

"Then I'll make it easy for you," Hiccup said quietly. "I exile myself from Berk. I am already disowned. I am no longer a Hooligan or your concern…any of yours…" he added, lifting his fierce green gaze to the other men present. "Don't try to find me, don't try to trap me, don't harm my friends, don't imprison or harm dragons and we'll all live in peace!"

"Or else what?" Madguts sneered at him. Hiccup leaned forward slightly.

"Okay, bud…over to you," he murmured. Toothless finally fired the plasma boiling in his throat, the impact a couple of feet in front of the assembled Chiefs and audience throwing up a wall of shattered stone and dirt…and in the confusion, before anyone could react, Toothless launched and arrowed directly up through the roof. Stormfly squawked happily and followed, Henryk holding on tightly as the two dragons swooped low over the village and clung low to the sharp black basalt canyons of Outcast Isle, below the range of the catapults until they were safely over the cliffs and skimming a few yards above the waves with the island receding behind them.

Finally, Astrid fidgeted, her body pressed against his for warmth and security.

"Can I transfer to Stormfly?" she asked in a hoarse voice. He held her close then gave a small nod, whistling to the Nadder. They slowed and came to hover alongside each other, before Toothless gently rose to hover just above and to the side of Stormfly so Astrid could easily step down onto her dragon to sit in front of Henyrk. The cloak was carefully and tightly fastened around her body, shielding her modesty and protecting her from the freezing wind. The boy grinned widely and wrapped his arms around her as soon as she settled on the saddle.

"I'm glad you're back," Henryk said happily and Astrid nodded, her face fixed on the horizon.

"It's good to be back," she said, her voice curiously colourless.

"Are-are you okay?" the boy asked her, hearing the odd tone in her voice.

"Fine," she stated evenly. "When we need to get back, I'll need to speak to Hiccup. Are you okay?" Henryk nodded.

"What's wrong?" he asked, his voice concerned. Astrid sighed.

"Nothing you need to be worried about," she said calmly and leaned forward. "Come on, Stormfly. Get us home as fast as you can." The Nadder accelerated and Astrid felt the muscles strain as the wings pumped furiously. Her eyes fixed only on the horizon, she gripped the edge of her saddle harder and headed for home.

Behind her, Hiccup watched and felt anxiety bubble in his throat. Astrid was acting very distant and he wondered if he had angered her by his challenge to the Chiefs. But what else could he say? Stoick knew who he was-and Dagur and Alvin, he guessed-and there were people there who were after Astrid because she was his friend. Maybe that was the source of her anger? That she was imperilled simply by being his friend?

"This is gonna be awkward, bud," he murmured to the Night Fury, who gave a small gambling noise as they reached the corner seastacks of Dragon Island and veered off. They never headed directly for their home island, always going via a different destination first to avoid pursuit. But it made the journey home longer…and gave Hiccup more time to worry. He kept glancing at the blonde shape, her dishevelled braid flapping behind her. He sighed and hunkered down, waiting as they eventually got in sight of their island and finally swooped low in towards the caves. The sun was settling and the sky was red and orange as they finally swooped into the darkness, finding the last embers of the fire. Hiccup landed on Toothless and immediately fussed the dragon, checking he was fit and not suffering from the long flight so soon after his severe illness. Then he turned to the woodpile, feeding the fire and coaxing it back into life then turning to check Astrid.

She was already rooting in her pack, fishing out a fresh tunic and slipping it on under the cloak, carefully folding the ruined tunic. They didn't have so many resources that she could afford to waste it and he knew she would try to mend or recycle it. Then she stood up, fussed Stormfly and allowed Hiccup to feed both dragons. Henryk sat quietly to one side, feeling the tension in the air. Astrid's blue eyes narrowed and she beckoned him.

"A word," she said. He nodded.

"I was expecting that," he admitted as he followed her to the cave entrance, looking across the island as darkness fell. There was a long pause and Hiccup could see Astrid breathing heavily, her face furious. He almost backed off a step…but he trusted her enough to remain where he was.

"What the Hel was that?" she demanded through her teeth.

He stiffened.

"No thanks for coming?" he suggested. "No 'glad to see you, Hiccup?' Not that I expect thanks, of course, but I hope you were grateful to see me and I didn't interrupt anything…" He was almost cringing as he spoke because he knew his sarcasm was probably seriously insulting her…

"This is mine?" she snapped. He started.

"They were trying to buy you, Astrid. It was literally the only thing I could think of when I saw what was happening!"

"I don't belong to you!" she growled. He did back up a pace now, raising his hands to try to appease her.

"No no no no no," he said urgently. "Of course you don't…but I had to try to stop it…"

"And you decided to show off," Astrid said shortly. He stared at her…then turned eyes to the fading sky.

"I'm sorry you think that," he said quietly. "Believe me, I never wanted to see Dad again…and being that close made me feel sick! Only the fact I was on Toothless meant I could even think. But there were the Chiefs of Five Tribes there and I had to take the opportunity to tell them to back off." He looked up. "You're not the one that everyone wants, Astrid. They all want me so I can train them some dragons so they can attack each other. I put you at risk because they know you and Toothless mean so much to me that I would give myself up to save you…but I am the person they all seek."

"I know." The words were brisk. He stared at the clouds as they faded from orange to pink to deep purple. "I know, Hiccup…and I understood the risks when I stayed…because you had to save Toothless…but I was really afraid because I believed that Alvin would kill me…or worse…" She stared at the floor. "And you are my friend and the only person I can rely on, that I can trust. And thanks to the Chief, I have a price on my head anyway…so I am condemned to hide here…but they were buying me like a piece of meat…"

Her voice hitched. Hiccup turned to her and his emerald eyes were stricken.

"I am so sorry," he said. "It's all my fault. You-you should have left me on Berk-or Berserk. You should have let me die…because you would be safe…" He turned away, digging his fingers into his hair. "Oh, it's all messed up," he moaned. "I should go…" And he turned and ran back into the cave…with Astrid on his heels. She was quicker than he was and she grabbed his arm, halting his escape.

"Hiccup!" she snapped. "Stop it! We need to talk!" He shook his head.

"I've messed up," he sighed. "I tried to warn them off…and I tried to stop them joining forces against us. But I know my Dad..and he will hunt us. He won't give up…because I made a fool of him, I defied him and I exposed his weaknesses." He gave a grim half-smile. "And even though the others have seen he isn't the invincible and honourable Chief he pretends to be…he is still Stoick the Vast. And they will ally with him…probably."

"So what was the dragon-protecting speech about?" Astrid asked him shortly. "And, come to think of it, where's Veurr?" Hiccup flicked his gaze up to look at her.

"Weren't you listening?" he said grimly. "She's gone. She's my mother…and she gave me a choice…to go with her and join her quest to protect dragons and stay away from people…or stay here. Guess which I chose?" Astrid frowned, her bruised face confused.

"But…"

"Astrid-she wanted me to leave you with Alvin…because you weren't worth risking myself and Toothless for!" he told her angrily. "She only cares for dragons. She would have let you die or be enslaved or raped…and she wouldn't care. But I did…and though she is my Mom and I desperately wanted to spend time with her and learn about dragons from her…losing you wasn't worth that!"

There was a pause and the last of her anger melted away. A cold hand gently reached for his and he grasped it, sighing.

"Thank you," she murmured. He swallowed.

"I tried to tell them that I wouldn't help people who wanted to misuse dragons…but I don't want to hide away completely," he told her gently, his fingers unconsciously stroking her. "I want people to understand how amazing dragons are…and I will help people who want to learn."

"And stop people who don't?" she murmured, seeing the determination in his pale face, his bruises from Dagur still not faded. He gave a wan smile.

"I'm not going to go round attacking people," he admitted. "Not who I am, Astrid. But I don't want dragons to be imprisoned and exploited and tortured…and I think I may have to do something about that."

"So like your Mom, Veurr…but more…Hiccupy?" she asked in a slightly amused voice. He shrugged.

"Hate the word but kind of…yeah…" he admitted. "I don't want to hide away forever but I do want to help dragons." She pulled him to face her and she finally gave a small smile.

"I would do it again," she admitted, "but it was really horrible and scary and I thought I would never see you and Stormy again…" His hand gently tightened round hers.

"You saved Toothless and me," he admitted. "I am so sorry, Astrid. I never meant for you to get hurt…"

"I'm a Viking," she told him proudly. "And I may be a fugitive but I am still a Hofferson…" And then her face crumpled. "And I'll never see my family again…" Impulsively, he wrapped her in a tight hug.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered. "And I will find a way to get you to see them again…maybe get them away from Berk?" She sniffed.

"My Mom wouldn't come," she sighed. "Her home, her everything is in the Tribe…but thank you. That's a kind idea…" She swiped her face dry. "Everyone will be after us now-you know that?"

"Not everyone," he said softly. "The Peaceables seem okay…and I may try to speak to Camicazi. She's the Bog Burglar Heir. I knew her when I was younger. She may be…okay."

"Don't do anything rash or stupid," she warned him as they slowly walked back into the caves.

"Sorry-I thought you were talking to me…everything I do is pretty rash and stupid," he reminded her with his crooked smile. She swatted his shoulder gently.

"Maybe we should try not rash for a while," she suggested. "At least until we have a plan…and have healed up." He nodded, leading her unerringly back to the cave to see Henryk talking cautiously to Stormfly who was nuzzling him gently. Toothless was asleep and a pot was boiling over the fire. The younger boy looked up guiltily.

"I started some soup," he said self consciously. "Um...I think it's just yak jerky and corn but I hope it's okay..." Astrid smiled.

"Anything would be good," she admitted. "The food on Outcast Island wasn't especially edible…" She sighed and sat by Stormfly. "Thanks for coming for me. I mean it." Hiccup's forest green gaze flicked up as he checked the food and nodded, a smile lifting his lips.

"Astrid," he said gently. "I will never not come for you. I promise." She smiled.

"Thanks," she repeated. "I'll hold you to that!"

But when they had eaten and curled up tiredly in their places, Hiccup had remained wakeful, still worrying. Astrid had looked sad and distracted and he realised that she had been hurt and traumatised by her experiences. Nothing had prepared her for the treatment at the hands of the Outcasts…and he still worried that she had been molested, despite her brusque denials. He shifted position and felt the warmth from Toothless leech into his back. The dragon was deeply asleep, his ears twitching slightly, the occasional rumble in his throat reassuring his little Viking.

And then he heard it: the faint moan and a whimper. He stiffened: it was Astrid.

"No…please don't…" she whispered. He stiffened and horrible guilt rushed through him. "Please don't…Nowhere! We come from Nowhere!"

He frowned: it was make a very cryptic name for the Island. And ably described exactly where they were.

"Hiccup…please come for me," she whimpered. "Please tell me Toothless is safe. Don't let this be in vain."

It wasn't, he thought and slowly sat up, then gathered his fur and limped over towards the writhing shape by Stormfly. The Nadder cracked open a worried yellow eye and she gave a slight croon as Hiccup dropped to his knees by Astrid. She was still asleep, whimpering and begging. Gently, hesitantly he rested a hand on her shoulder and quietly wrapped his arms around her.

"It's alright, Astrid," he said gently. "I'm here, Toothless is fine and so is Stormfly. You're safe." Her arms wrapped around him and her head nuzzled into his chest. Carefully, he lay alongside her and pulled his fur over them both. She hugged him tighter and he felt the silkiness of her hair on his cheek as she moved her head.

"Hiccup…" she mumbled sleepily.

"I'm here," he told her. She shifted her position slightly.

"Thanks," she murmured and dropped back to sleep. He rested his head against hers, ghosting a kiss against her hair before he closed his eyes.

"Glad you're safe, Milady," he said as he fell asleep.


End file.
